Elhana
by Adagio To A Wolf
Summary: If you know it, its coming back. Chapter by chapter. If not: Eragon faces off with all the loose ends left over from Eldest and faces a new problem: a mission from beyond the dead, issued by Lord Vrael. Can he handle all the challenges, and still Lead?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

About a week after that great battle on the Burning Plains Eragon woke very late in the day. This was unusual for him. Almost a year of non-stop traveling had him up at the dawn every day. Even recently, with the aftermath of the battle, he had woken early to help out as much as he could. He had been about, healing, cleaning up, improving morale, and generally helping out. When absolutely necessary, he and Saphira attended Council meetings.

In all honesty, he was keeping busy to avoid the thoughts that had been wracking his mind. He had barely slept the past week, they were so horrible. Murtagh was a Rider, in the service to Galbatorix. He was far stronger than Eragon and had taken the sword Zar'roc. Worse, he and Murtagh were brothers, the two Sons of Morzan, who was the First and Last of the Forsworn. He had thought it way back: they were like a pair of matched blades. Every time he thought of the fact that he was a Son of Morzan, he felt sick to his stomach.

But today was different. Eragon had managed to, with some effort, sleep through the night, and well into the next day. No one had come by to wake him or tell him to come to Council Meetings. No one was there. His tent had been left alone, though that was probably because the hulking form of Saphira's massive bulk was usually wrapped protectively around the tent. He hated having the tent there. He'd much rather sleep under Saphira's wing, but he couldn't very well tell Nasuada that he didn't appreciate the tent she'd had set up for him.

His mind floating back to Murtagh and Morzan, Eragon found some solace in knowing that although it was Morzan who had sired him; it was Garrow, his uncle, who was his father. And though Murtagh was his blood-kin, it was Roran who was his brother. He was Eragon. He would not bear the sins of his sire. That made Eragon feel slightly better, even if it still left a foul taste in his mouth. He hauled his body out of his bed roll.

Eragon washed out his mouth and looked at his face in a mirror. It was still so odd to see the pointed ears, the almost elfish slant to his eyes and cheeks. The changes to his skin were also new and odd every time he looked at. He still expected to see the scars on his wrists and hands and found none. When he examined his body, he found himself far too muscular, far too big and bulky to be an elf. Elves were lean and stream-lined. Like dancers. Eragon was definitely human in that aspect. He also had a human voice, one that was far too deep and far too coarse and common to be elfish. But all in all, he didn't mind the half-human place he was at. It made him stronger than any human, and at least at-par with most elves.

_Finally awake,_grumbled Saphira, sticking her nose in the tent-flap. _Good afternoon, little one. _She loved calling him 'little one' for although Saphira was younger and had, a year ago, been about the size of a cat, he was now the little one. She had grown large and sleek in Du Weldenvarden, chasing game that was in the prime of health. Her blue scaled nose snorted warm air into the tent and Eragon lay his hand on it, pushing it back slightly as he walked out of the tent. He inhaled the air, surprised to find it so brisk. It was definitely not summer anymore.

"Good afternoon to you too, Saphira. Why didn't anyone wake me? It's well past noon." He asked the blue dragon, still patting her scaled nose. She snorted and Eragon was wary of the small amount of flame that flickered around her nose.

_I wouldn't let them. You've been tiring yourself out this past week. When you finally managed to sleep without dreams, I thought it best to leave you alone. _She said it so tenderly, like a mother that was worried for her offspring, that Eragon felt both loved and cared for, and was appreciative of her tenderness. _Roran is behind you._Eragon patted her again and turned to face his 'brother.'

"Afternoon." He loped over. Roran and Eragon had been built on the same lines. Roran was taller and older, but not by much. He had gained some bulk to his muscles through his skills with a war-hammer and at Horsts forge. From what Eragon had heard around camp, Roran was handsome and well-liked, but he rarely smiled. His worry for Katrina, his betrothed, showed in the lines on his face. Eragon grunted and looked around in his bags for food of some kind. He brought out an elven bread, that was made without yeast, and a travel cake made with ground dried fruit, nuts, and some other ingredients he didn't care to identify.

Roran snorted when he saw Eragon's breakfast. "I had fried eggs, bacon, and a lovely biscuit with butter for breakfast." He was teasing Eragon because of his turn to vegetarianism. Roran would eat his vegetables, but he liked a good steak too. "You'll lose all that muscle mass you've gained, not eating meat."

"No" muttered Eragon, trying to get the water to come to a boil so he could have some tea. "Nuts have just as much protein as meat. I'll be fine. Barzuln, this is taking too long." He dropped his striker of flint and looked over at Saphira. "If you would be so kind" he gestured to the fire and with a sneeze-like sound, Saphira blew a ball of blue flame into the hearth and it caught flame. Eragon's tea was ready in no time. "Thank you, Saphira."

"I'm always surprised when she does that." Said Roran, hunkering down next to Eragon, who was leaning back to enjoy his tea. Eragon gave Roran a quizzical look? "Breathes fire. I know she's a Dragon, I know she's intelligent, but it still amazes me. I guess because it proves she's real, and not just some insane hallucination." Saphira chuckled and hunkered down behind Eragon. They sat in silence for a moment, Saphira's mind picking up the voices and feelings of hundreds, while Eragon's mind siphoned them off into important and unimportant conversations.

"What next?" Asked Roran, breaching the silence. "What do we do next?" Eragon knew he was itching to go after Katrina. But Eragon had explained that, much as he wanted to, Eragon and Saphira could not just leave. He and Saphira were an important part of the Varden, and they had to stay. His loyalties were torn between his Liege-lord, Nasuada. His dead king, Hrothgar, and his brother, Roran. He knew they couldn't stay here forever, but he wanted to take a few moments to breathe.

"I think hunting the Ra'Zac is a fine quest for the two of us. Not only will we rescue the damsel in distress, like good heroes are supposed to do, but we'll provide a service to the Varden, hurt the Empire, and complete our own personal revenge." He said finally, knowing it was what Roran wanted to hear. Saphira gave a rumble of encouragement, she was ready for the next adventure too!

Saphira projected her thoughts so that they touched Roran's mind as well, _Eragon and I need to be outfitted properly to travel. Helgrind is North and West of here, by Leona Lake. That's at least 10 days of flying. Less if nothing goes wrong. We need provisions for that, and Eragon you will need a sword, and Roran needs armor. _She was so sensible, Eragon loved her for that. He nodded his agreement. Roran shook his head a bit whenever Saphira projected her thoughts to him: it made him feel weird, but he took it much better than others.

"Not to mention, we'll have to fly across a decent part of the Empire, and risk exposure to Galbatorix and his men on our way there. Saphira and I will talk to Nasuada today, to see if she will let us go." Said Eragon decisively, he knew this would be a good plan. Nasuada would find it hard to deny him. "She won't like it, but if we can convince her of our intent to finish the Ra'zac once and for all, she might just let us go. I know the war campaign is moving towards Cithrì in the next few days, and that's at least a two week trek from where we are now. Not only that, but the dwarves return to Farthen Dur, and with luck, won't be back for at least a month."

"Ample time for us to fly to Helgrind, save Katrina, and be back in time." Roran's enthusiasm is evident and it brings a small smile to his face. He sips tea with Eragon for several minutes, silence extending into the space between them. "You slept late today. Anything wrong?" He asked, general concern for his cousins welfare showing on Roran's face.

"Eta, no." said Eragon, imitating his dwarf brother, Orik. "I was tired and have been having disturbing dreams. Last night was the first time in a week that I slept through the night."

"What kind of dreams could terrify a Rider out of his sleep?" joked Roran, though he did show concern. Eragon couldn't remember. It wasn't so much a series of images, or a particular event, but Eragon was dreaming in emotions.

"I can't give you specifics. It's odd. There's no pictures just yet, just feelings. Fear, anticipation, exhaustion, more fear, and pain. All I know is that there is a lot of pain, and I shoot awake, with this lingering feeling of hope. Nothing else." Eragon could feel each emotion shoot through him every night, and at first he thought the pain was just his memories of Durza's attack. But it wasn't. It was the kind of pain felt through the entire body, the pain of loss. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"Will it stop us from flying out in a few days, to go hunt the Ra'zac?" asked Roran, his brow furrowed in concern again. He looked like Garrow when he did that.

"I shouldn't think so. If anything, my dreams may get clearer, and I'll finally know what they are supposed to be telling me. It's happened before." Eragon explained his dreams of the once captive Arya. When he finished, he also explained his vision of the recent battle. "They tend to come to me in my sleep. I don't know why. But they end up meaning something."

"Let me know if and when they become clearer. I've been listening to Gertrude's discussion's on healing and magic. She mentioned dreams being a way for us to work out our problems. Though yours just seem to create problems for you." Eragon smiled and the thought of Roran listening to Carvahall's resident healer about magic and healing and the sort of esoteric things that only gave Roran headaches.

"Well, I didn't dream last night. Maybe my problems were resolved." Eragon knew it wasn't true, but it would do no one any good to fret about it now. "What have you been up to?"

"Not much. Spoke with Horst this morning. Turns out, he's probably the only blacksmith working for the Varden who, for one, has no idea how to make swords, and two, isn't a dwarf." Eragon laughed at the thought of the monstrous Carvahall blacksmith, Horst, standing in a dwarf-sized forge and smiled. Saphira picked up his train of thought and chuckled.

_He looks a bit like an oversized dwarf though: with that beard and those arms! _She thought into Eragon's mind. He felt her rumble a chuckle and turned his attention back to Roran.

"Though they are glad to have him. He's been working on a new catapult idea with two of the Varden's General's, and he's been learning a few tricks from the Dwarves." Roran was getting some joy, albeit vicariously, at how well his village was adapting to the lifestyle of the Varden. Morn was making ale again, which brought up the army's morale. Even the women were helping out in ways that they enjoyed. Sewing and cooking were amongst some of the things they liked. When Nasuada had seen some of the styles of lace made by the northern women, she immediately sent them off to speak with the spell-weavers who were mass producing the stuff. The combinations they came up with were astounding and rivaled even the dwarves best.

"The Durgrimst Ingeitum has some of the finest smiths amongst the clans. He's learning from the best, I assure you." Eragon too felt glad that Horst was fitting in so well. If he was making catapults and learning from the dwarves, he had no doubt that Horst and his family would do fine.

"But the dwarves are leaving soon, so he's bringing Albreich with him to his meetings, as well as several other men who know how to work the forges, so that it won't be a forge full of dwarves one day and only two humans when the dwarves are asked to leave." Roran brought up a point that had also been nagging Eragon in the past few days. The death of King Hrothgar, had left the dwarves leaderless. As they spoke, Hrothgar's body was making its way back to Farthen Dur, using the tunnels set up by the Dwarves, under the Beors. In a few days time, Orik and other Dwarf Generals, would be forced to go back to Farthen Dur and Tronjheim, to vote with the clans, for the next King of the Dwarves, hopefully one who would support the Varden in their battle against Galbatorix and the Empire. As a human, Eragon couldn't vote with his dwarf-kin in the Ingeitum, but he did have a right to know who the King was and give his opinion, with blessing and allegiance to the new king.

Eragon was silent as he thought. Normally, he didn't like politics. He still didn't. But as a Rider, was inextricably knotted in the politics between the human Varden, the elves, and the dwarves. _What a horrible mess! _He thought to Saphira, _Have we even met the Grimstborth Ingeitum, who led the Clan while Hrothgar was King?_

_I do believe we have. _Saphira responded by reaching back into her incredibly expansive memory, _I do believe his name is Wodin. He's older than Arya, but still looks well. He didn't have much of a beard, and always called Orik "cousin." _She brought up an image in her mind, and suddenly Eragon recognized the dwarf.

_We spoke to him extensively before you got drunk that one night. _Eragon teased her a bit, pulling up the memory of the very inebriated Saphira. She was not amused. _I vaguely recall him being wiser than he looked, and more than capable of understanding the complexities of politics. He explained more than enough to me. Not that I can remember that much from all the mead. _

_I'll try to remember some of the things he said and pass them into your mind. _She nosed him on the side and turned him back to Roran. Who had stopped talking and was looking at them with a quizzical look on his face.

"Sorry," said Eragon quickly. "Saphira and I live so much in each other's minds, that we sometimes lapse into conversations with each other and we often forget there are others around us. We were just discussing who was the clan-leader of the Ingeitum, and if he was a capable enough man to rule the Dwarves."

"That's alright. It's just, you went silent and then your gaze faltered, and I figured you were talking to Saphira." Roran understood, though he writhed uncomfortably because he had been forgotten. "What's it like having a Dragon in your head?" He asked his cousin. To Roran, dragons were still creatures of mystery and myth, and he still couldn't believe that Saphira was real and that Eragon, his younger cousin Eragon, was a Rider.

Saphira lightly touched Roran's mind, _Like this, only more intense. It isn't just conversation, I can feel Eragon's hidden thoughts, his emotions, his memories. We hide nothing from each other. I know his soul as well as I know my own. Which is what makes Galbatorix and Shruikan so heinous and perverse a pair: to Galbatorix, Shruikan is no more than a glorified mount, no better than a horse. Galbatorix feeds on his dragon's power, but does not share his soul with him. If he weren't so twisted, I would feel sorry for Shruikan and Galbatorix. _

Roran shook his head when Saphira finished. "Your voice is so deep Saphira. It makes by brain rumble in my mind." Saphira snorted at the comment and turned her nose up.

"You should hear the voices of male dragons. That's deep. But Saphira doesn't actually have a voice. No Dragon does. It's why the Dragon war was so horrible. There was no way for the elves and dragons to converse. As a Dragon, she cannot speak. But the voice you hear is a projection she gives herself." Eragon explained, drawing both on his and Saphira's thoughts.

"Well why not project a voice that sounds nicer. This one grates on the ears." Roran grumbles, still rubbing his head. Eragon was about to answer, when Saphira did it for him.

_You aren't listening, o brother-of-Eragon. Your ears do not hear this voice. It is your mind that I touch. If you ignore my thoughts in your mind, you will 'hear' nothing. As to why I don't give myself a pretty voice: I am a dragon. Dragon females are fierce for all they are beautiful. How can I be fierce with a voice that sounds meek? If I had a voice like a bell, I would not inspire the fear or respect that I do with this voice. Consider yourself lucky, for I understand the ways of humans and elves. Any other dragon, male or female, would have eaten you for your cheek._ She rumbles a laugh and, stretching her neck up and her head towards the sky, she let loose a spiral of blue flame.

"I'll remember that." Said Roran, trying to put some space between him and the fire-breathing Saphira. It was obvious she had frightened him: not enough to make him run. Just enough to put him on his guard.

_It's a good thing to remember. But I don't know if Roran will ever get the chance to meet a Dragon outside of Saphira. _Eragon mused sadly, projecting his thoughts for Saphira's mind alone.

_You never know, little one._ He could feel her thoughts fill with hope._ You never know. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A Rider's Place **

After eating breakfast (or as it was, Lunch) with Roran, Eragon went to hunt down Nasuada. He found her in a meeting with Jormundur and Trianna, the mage. They weren't talking battle tactics: they were talking funding. Eragon made eye contact with Nasuada and she nodded that he could join them. Eragon listened to the end of the conversation.

"Well, thanks to those northern women, we now have designs that appeal to a variety of people. I'm hoping that Jeod can help us get them into the Empire." Nasuada handed a piece of embroidery to Trianna and she gave a proud smile. Jormundur looked uncomfortable. Eragon looked pleasantly confused. He knew only vaguely that the Varden was making money on Lace, but he hadn't been exactly sure on the specifics. He assumed that getting the Lace into the Empire would give them a new market, Galbatorix would be paying for their war expenses as well as his own, without the messiness of taxes.

Trianna handed him the scrap of lace and Eragon observed it calmly. But Eragon, as a boy, had never been taught much about sewing. He knew how to repair rips in clothing, and he could roughly fashion Saphira a saddle, but the intricacies of Lace were just that much beyond his skill. He knew lace was expensive and was a mark of status in women. He'd never held a knitting needle or a crochet hook in his life. His new half-elf perceptions of the world showed him exactly how the lace was made, if asked, he could probably imitate it in no time, which made Eragon hide a smile. He now knew exactly why Jormundur was uncomfortable: he was definitely a soldiers man, he didn't know any more sewing than Eragon, and an entire conversation on lace was much too feminine a conversation for him, and yet, as a commander of the Varden, he had to be in on any discussion regarding finances.

"This is very pretty," he said showing his approval to Trianna, who, it appears, was in charge of the endeavor. "This part here is a bit weaker, stitch-wise, than the bit around the rose." He pointed out the offending stitches and Trianna grabbed the lace sample quickly to see what he was talking about. Eragon hoped he hadn't offended the woman, they weren't on easy terms.

"If you take note," she said carefully, "this part here will repeat, strengthening the stitches as the pattern continues." She explained it to him, like she would a small child. "Besides, with the amount of lace the Varden makes, it really doesn't matter." She swallowed heavily as Saphira came up behind Eragon.

_Why is the Varden making lace? _Saphira projected her thoughts and Jormundur looked ready to hug her. It seems this was an idea that had been irking him and he was about to fight the very thought of a group such as the Varden making Lace.

"Lace is easy to make, but time consuming, and therein lies it value. Most women know how to make it, but don't have the time. By magic, we can expend small amounts of energy and make large quantities of lace, and sell it for a nice price, one that isn't too exorbitant, and women across the Empire will leap at the chance of owning something fine and valuable, without the huge cost and without the personal waste of time." Nasuada explained briefly, her strategy and the series of events that had brought on the idea of using Lace to fund the Varden's activities.

_Dragons don't see the use of lace, as decoration. Our hides are decoration enough. But I commend you on thinking up such a sensible plan to make money. Who would've thought thread would be worth its weight in gold? _Saphira rumbled her pleasure, which made Jormundur scowl. He had been hoping Saphira would say it was silly and frivolous. But, not even he could complain about the amount of gold brought in by the Lace. _Eragon, have you asked her yet? _Thought Saphira openly.

"No. I'll get to it as soon as this finances meeting is complete." Eragon said it politely, but the look he gave Nasuada showed his desire that Trianna leave. She seemed to understand and with some stiffness in her good-byes, left Eragon and Saphira to talk with Jormundur and Nasuada.

"Is there something you'd like Eragon? As Rider, you need only ask and anything you wish will be brought to you." Nasuada was sincere in the amount of respect Eragon was due as Rider. But it irked her some that, in essence, Eragon was more important in the Varden than she was. Essentially, he was the new Leader of the Riders, taking the place of the long-dead Vrael.

"Yes. My liege, Saphira and I request permission to head into the Empire with my cousin Roran so we may hunt down the Ra'zac." Eragon said it with as much respect as he could muster. Nasuada looked pensive and a frown crossed her brow. Most women looked ugly when they frowned, but Nasuada alone could make a frown look graceful.

"No." Said Jormundur. "The Varden need you here, Eragon." But Nasuada silenced him with a flick of her wrist. As Nasuada was his liege-lord, he obeyed her first, and Jormundur and the other Commanders of the Varden, second, if at all.

"Eragon. You are Rider. What makes you think you must ask my permission to go?" She said calmly. Eragon knew this was one of those 'trick-questions.' It wasn't so much about the answer he gave her, but the way which he approached the right answer.

"Lady Nasuada, you are my liege-lord. I am sworn in your service. I may be the first Rider, and that in some sense, makes me more important than many people in the Varden or in the Empire. But," he thought carefully about his phrasing. Nasuada's eyebrow had twitched when he'd said he was more important than the Varden or Empire, "But, as there are only three dragons left in Alagaesia, I would not consider myself first amongst Riders. In this time and place, I am no more than an over-glorified knight. As a knight, I answer to you. Which is why I must first ask." Nasuada smiled her approval of his answer. He had solved the problem that had mildly irked her since his arrival.

"Now. If I told you the Varden needed you here, and that I did not think it wise that you leave." Nasuada was testing his diplomacy. He had been placed in an inextricably horrible power-struggle. She wanted to know how he would handle this situation. He was, after all, her successor, and would need to be able to handle an array of similar situations.

"I would say that, since the Varden is moving forward to Cithrì, that you don't need me for that. We wouldn't be gone more than a few weeks. Enough time to fly directly to the Ra'zacs lair in Helgrind, do what we must as quickly as we can, and then head back, so we may fly to Farthen Dur for the appointment of the next Dwarf-King." Eragon outlined that they would be gone no more than 30-35 days, which from what he understood, gave him about a week to ten days before the Varden moved the campaign from Cithrì.

"Eragon. Helgrind is far too close to Uru'baen. The trip north is far too treacherous, and the Ra'zac are too dangerous for you and Saphira alone." Nasuada sounded concerned. She had heard enough reports about the Ra'zac to know that they were dangerous killers. "And what if you meet, the Red-rider?" She hesitated to say Murtagh, not in front of Jormundur.

_We tell him we want to hunt Ra'zac, not them, and they leave us alone. If they don't, we flee before they can get close enough to capture us. _Saphira was frightening when she did extend her mind to people. More often, they were hesitant to let her in and Eragon was left translating. But her mind was so strong it easily overpowered the defenses on Jormundurs and Nasuada's minds. When Nasuada looked ready to resist, Saphira added. _Nasuada, Eragon asks permission to leave because it is the right thing to do. I am not bound to you. Only Eragon. And as a Dragon, I will do what I want. I can just as easily pick up him and Roran and fly out of here toward Dras-Leona. You and your people cannot stop me. But we are asking permission, so that we can leave, with your assistance and blessings, and with the intention of returning as quickly as is possible. I respect you Nightstalker, but I heed only Eragon and only when I so wish. To me, you and your kind are crispy morsels that taste good with tomato-sauce. _Eragon could barely hold back a laugh at Saphiras comment.

"You speak true, Dragon. Do you really wish to hunt the Ra'zac?" Nasuada looked unsteady, Saphira's mind was an imposing force, and he didn't relish inflicting it on an untrained mind. Saphira nodded that they were certain. "Very well. Outfit yourselves from our stores, and good hunting to the three of you. I wish you could take a magician with you, but apart from Arya, there are none here who could compete with your skill Eragon. I would suggest you take her with you." Nasuada said it, but Eragon and Saphira could both tell that she didn't mean it.

"I'd rather not. Arya is needed here. She is the elven ambassador. It would be inappropriate for you to assign her to me." _Not like she'd want to go anywhere with me, in the first place. _Eragons thoughts were bitter, remembering the Agaeti Blodhren ceremony. Saphira grumbled at him to get on with it. "But, she must wait for her kin. They come across the Empire, with luck we will see them and can direct them toward Cithrì to join you."

"I'd rather not. Arya is needed here. She is the elven ambassador. It would be inappropriate for you to assign her to me." _Not like she'd want to go anywhere with me, in the first place. _Eragons thoughts were bitter, remembering the Agaeti Blodhren ceremony. Saphira grumbled at him to get on with it. "But, she must wait for her kin. They come across the Empire, with luck we will see them and can direct them toward Cithrì to join you."

"Very well Eragon. But I expect to see you in Cithri a month from now. You may go. Outfit yourself and your brother from our stores. Take whatever you need. You have my blessings to go." Says Nasuada, still frowning at the fact that she couldn't send Arya with them. "Oh, and Eragon." She says to his leaving back. Eragon turns around with a supreme grace he did not have when she saw him in Tronjheim. "Do kill those monsters? I hear they are a menace. And be careful."

"I'll do my best. Many thanks my Lady." Says Eragon with a quick bow and he and Saphira walk towards the armory tents. Eragon still needed a sword and he needed to pick up a few things for Roran. Maybe a shield or two would also be useful. And he needed a new set of arm greaves, and mail for Roran. Yes. He and Saphira would have to pick up a few things.

They were half-way to the armory tents when Eragon ran into the one person he was rather hoping he wouldn't see: Arya. Her raven black hair was held back by its usual tie and she looked cross. Following in her wake, was Roran. Judging from the look on his face, Roran had gone to let Arya know of his and Eragons plans for the Ra'zac.

"You're mad!" seethed Arya, as she approached Eragon. Saphira gave a threatening rumble. "You seem insistent about killing yourself. You are the only the thing Galbatorix wants and you are ready to walk right into his hands." Eragon did not like being chastised by Arya in front of people, and especially not in front of his cousin. His hurt at her refusal, his frustration with the Politics of his world, and her insult to his (and Saphira's) sanity and intelligence was beyond enough.

He had long since realized that he had developed a temper: it came from being bonded to Saphira, who was so fierce and took no flack from people who annoyed her. When it came to people who were physically or magically weaker than he was, Eragon kep t his tongue in check. He knew when it was futile to argue. Just as it was futile to argue with Nasuada, he knew that it would be futile to argue with Arya. But her insult to his sanity and her inability to trust his skills and duties as a Rider, was more than enough. He considered swapping into the ancient language, but decided to keep his speech in the common tongue.

"I believe it was you who said, that the elves consider courtesy the highest of social structures." Eragon started out calm and watched a mixture of emotions cross Arya's face: first shock at her own indiscretion, than rage, that Eragon would be presumptuous enough to call out an elf, on elven protocol. Eragon continued, "By calling me mad and questioning my judgment, you do me and Saphira a great discourtesy, though neither of us are elves." Arya looked fuming mad and Eragon knew he had to get out his argument before she cursed him into oblivion. "Saphira and I chose to help Roran Kill the Ra'zac, not only because it will do the Empire a disservice, but also because Roran is my family, and unlike you, I will do anything to help my family." That statement sent a shock through Arya, and Eragon was pleased to see that it unsettled her. In some way, he was right: Arya did not care much about her family, though she named them in her ties often enough. "Do not presume to understand what the duties of a Rider are, Arya. For you are not one." Arya stared at him, mouth agape with the shock of Eragon's words.

Arya turned to Saphira, expecting the wise dragon to agree with her. Saphira glared at her menacingly. _Much as I may disagree with the way he has said things, Eragon is right on this one Arya. You may not trust his judgment, which I think is a grave error on your part, but you could have at least trusted mine. Eragon, Roran, and I go to kill the Ra'zac. Your disdain is not enough to change either of our minds._She nodded smugly at Arya and held her ground behind Eragon. The people around were slowing down in their daily tasks to see what was happening and Eragon could see they were waiting for Arya's response.

"You call me discourteous. I have never been so insulted, Eragon-vodhr." She doesn't sniff, but Eragon could hear the sneer in her voice as she said the honorific _vodhr_. Eragon disliked it. He knew he shouldn't argue or ostracize Arya, but he didn't like her tone.

"My apologies, Arya." He purposely left out the _Svit-kona_ that was the honorific for a woman of wisdom, Ayra gasped at the slight. "But I figured if you thought me mad, I didn't need to be polite." She glared at him.

"Is this your way of punishing me for denying you. I told you, my affections for you were those of a friend." She had brought _that_ up, in front of everyone. Eragon never felt so embarrassed.

"No" said Eragon tersely, wondering how he should say his next bit. "For me to despise you for that, would be childish." The implied undertone, was that of her being equally childish for bringing it up. Arya shrunk back from his expertly delivered insult. "But you presume you know me, because you searched my mind. You know nothing, for you never took the chance to search my heart."

_Neither of us hate you Arya, _rumbled Saphira, putting her great head over Eragon's shoulder. _But I believe you are edgy with the arrival of your kin, and the burden of the Alfakyn Fricaya, the Yawe, is heavy on you in moments like this. I can tell that it is your desire to join the three of us, to have another adventure. But you are contained here._At that moment, Eragon decided to extend his mind. Arya gave off the longing that Saphira had described, though she still held her mind behind an Iron fortress. Eragon mentall scoffed, for people who preach knowing all life, they keep their minds surprisingly closed. Arya seemed to argue with herself, and then a defeated look came over her face.

"You are wise Saphira Bjartskular. I do wish I could go with you, if only so I can avoid my ken when they arrive. But you are correct in your knowledge that I cannot go. My duties tie me here. It was foolish of me to insult you and Eragon-elda. My apologies, forgive me for my behavior, it was said in anger. Forgive me?" She looked at Eragon and Saphira jointly and Eragon was reminded of Arya's encounter with Islanzadì: she hadn't really given them much choice, it was either accept her forgiveness or ostracize the elves. Eragon didn't like her using her political advantage this way.

_You are forgiven Arya. _Rumbles Saphira, she too has felt Eragons thoughts, but has kept them to herself.

"Aye" grumbled Eragon with little feeling. "We forgive you Arya Svit-Kona. It isn't your fault that you must stay. Will you in turn forgive me, for insulting you so, in my own anger?"

"Wiol Ono." _For You. _She had said that before, and Eragon had thought it meant she had more special feelings for him. But she wasn't doing it for Eragon. She was doing it for Saphira's Rider, a man she could not insult.

"I'm going to the armory tent, to find a sword for myself, and outfit Roran for the trip. Do you care to join us?" He said it out of politeness, expecting her to decline. She did.

"No. I must speak with Nasuada. Keep in touch, Eragon. In case you need aid." She tapped her head and walked off. Eragon watched her lope off, her black hair shining.

Roran's whistle of surprise brought him back. "Well that was interesting" he said under his breath. Eragon rubbed his knuckles into his forehead, his brain hurt from the politics of it all.

_I can't wait to go hunt those Ra'zac. Them I can kill without wondering about the politics of my deed. _Eragon told Saphira privately. _Ugh. I have such a headache! _

_You probably shouldn't have said those things to Arya, but I understand why you did. I agree. All this talking means nothing, if there is no doing. That's the fault dragons found with the Elves, in Du Fryn Skulblaka, The Dragon War: elves were all words, and no deeds._Saphira's tone was comforting, for all that it had the dragon rumble and rasp. _Roran just said something._

"Why doesn't she want to wait for her own people?" He asked, clearly annoyed because he had to ask a second time. "I figure, she'll have some company that way, rather than being the only elf in the Varden."

"She has burdens that she doesn't enjoy bearing when she is amongst elves." Says Eragon, almost cryptically. He can't tell Roran that Arya is an elf princess, but he can refrain from mentioning it. Roran seemed to accept the answer, for the time being, pondering it in his mind. Eragon pointed at the armory tent to their side and led the way to it.

Roran picked out two hammers, each with a long pike on the back end, and several daggers. He didn't have Eragon's skill with a sword, nor did Eragon really have time to teach him. Roran also picked out some other equipment (a rope, several daggers with sheathes, and a plain war-hammer, made extra-long for human-hands.) Eragon added chain-mail, arm-greaves, and some spare clothing, as well as a water-bag, sleeping roll, and extra blanket. Roran's travel-kit was threadbare from the march down to the Varden from Carvahall. While Roran tried out a scythe-like spear (he heard it called a 'piked-glaive' for the scythe on one end, and the spear like head on the other). Eragon in turn, tested various swords. Most were dwarf make, and they weren't bad blades. Tragically, they were all too short, and in his mind, far too light blades for a Rider. He knew they were some of the best, but none would match the now lost Zar'roc.

"Eragon! ERAGON! Have ye' ears of stone?!" Someone was yelling to get his attention, which had been focused on a blade, when he heard and saw Orik come up. "Guntera bless it! Couldn't you hear me?" He asked, finally coming up to Eragon's side.

"I'm sorry, my mind was on the blade." He showed Orik the piece and Orik scowled. "How are you Orik? Do you and your men prepare to leave soon?" He asked, wondering if he would see his Ingeitum brother again.

"Aye, we leave in a few days time. Wodin is acting as temporary leader, and has called the clans back." Orik looked worried, and Eragon knew that Hrothgars death still troubled him. "About the blade, the Ingeitum would like me to give you this." Eragon just then saw that Orik had been carrying a long-sword with him. He held it out to Eragon. "Dwarf gear is too short for you. I realized that when I spied your bow. This was made especially for a human."

"Orik, I don't know what to say." Eragon held the blade in his hands. It was heavier than Zar'roc, and would need sharpening every few uses, but it was better than he could have hoped for. Then he remembered the helm of the Ingeitum, given to him by Hrothgar, all those ages ago. It was a mark of politics again.

As though Orik could tell what thoughts had passed through his mind, Orik said "There are no politics tied to this one Eragon. A weapon is your right as a member of the Ingeitum. Our smiths were more than willing to forge a blade that would be used by Rider-Eragon, it is one of our finest works." He beamed as he said this, a rare smile crossing his face. Eragon could tell his pride, just for a moment, overshadowed his grief over the passing of Hrothgar.

"Many thanks brother-Orik. This is indeed a fine blade" Eragon held the blade up in a toast.

"May it serve you well." Said Orik, pounding Eragon heartily on the lower back. They chatted casually as Eragon prepared himself, Roran, and Saphira for their trip. Saphira considered bringing her chest plaque, but decided against it. She needed speed, and she wouldn't get that with the weight of Dragon-Armor. It was to go to Cithrì with the Varden.

They were packed and ready, all that was needed was to put their things on Saphira and fly out. But it was late and after some cajoling, Roran agreed to spend one more night in the Varden, and the three of them joined Orik and his men for dinner. Eragon didn't have too much mead, but enough to make him buzz pleasantly. He knew that tomorrow, they began their fearsome trek towards Helgrind and the Ra'zac.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Visions or Dreams?**

Eragon, Roran, and Saphira flew north and east, in a relatively strait line towards Helgrind and surprisingly, not much happened. Roran wanted to know more about the Riders and Eragon and Saphira were both more than happy to oblige him, with tales of great battles and the histories and legends of the Riders, that Eragon had read from the elves. On the night before their fifth day of travel, Eragon's bad dreams came back.

Unlike the first time Eragon experienced the dream, this one was much clearer, though still mysterious enough. He could feel his heart racing while he flew through the night sky. Dragon wings beat ferociously, clawing at the sky, and the wind whipped through long white-blonde hair. _White Blonde? Long? That's not right. _Some part of Eragon reasoned._My hair isn't white: it's brown. _

He looked down at his hands, which clutched the horn on the gilded saddle in which he sat. They were a pale and almost unearthly white. Dream-Eragon brought his hand to his side, then to his face. His hand was covered in blood and suddenly, he was acutely conscious of a sharp pain in his side. Bringing down his hand, he reached for Saphira.

To Eragons shock and surprise, it was not Saphira that he rode. Though it was dark, Eragon could tell that the dragon upon which he rode was male and a bright emerald green. He knew now, that this was no dream, but a vision. A vision meant to tell him something. But who was he? Who was the dragon? Why were they flying at night?

Dream-Eragon looked over the side of the Dragon and saw mountains. Some corner of his mind told him _That's the Spine. Look, that's the valley where Carvahall is. Or was._ He looked down and could see the small flickering lights of both towns. _This is far enough in the past that Carvahall still existed. _The Dragon veered southward, and flew hard and fast toward the mountain Utgard. Dream-Eragon was nervous, constantly looking backward, and muttering to something far to his left, and he couldn't tell what it was. There was a moment where the dragon's wings fluttered oddly and a roar split the air. His green was in pain, it could not fly steady. There was something frightening and horrible behind it. Something dangerous.

As the great stone mountain Utgard approached, the Green-Dragon dropped into a dive, pulling out, dangerously close to the ground. There was much wing-shuffling as Dream-Eragon dropped to the side, running into a cave situated at the face of the cliff. He was worried. More muttering that Eragon's consciousness could not decipher and his body makes movements and gestures Eragon cannot understand. A great rumble and silence.

"So. You run from me, Vrael?" Says an icily cold voice behind him. He hears his dragon outside scream his pain. "The Great Leader of the Riders, is running away. Are you hoping to make it to your elven hidey-hole?" Dream-Eragon consciously feels a sharp pain in his nether-regions and doubles over with it.

"Coward" Dream-Eragon sputters. No, not dream-Eragon. Vrael. Eragon is Vrael in this dream. Vrael-Eragon clutches at his heart, as his dragon is painfully wounded outside. "I do not run from you, Galbatorix. I may have lost this battle, but I have not lost the war. Already you have been outmaneuvered." Vrael-Eragon's voice is haggard with the pain, though it still carries the graceful lilt of the elves.

"No, Vrael. You die now." A horrid black-metal blade with a silver symbol etched into the metal above the hilt, flashes before his eyes. The metal edge pressed hard into Vrael-Eragon's neck, and he could barely breathe. Eragon was only conscious that Galbatorix had pulled the sword ready, for a back-hand swing.

"ELHÀNA!" screamed Vrael-Eragon, as the blade struck and his dragon roared his own death in his ears. And with that Eragon woke with a start, drenched in sweat, shaking in fear.

At Eragon's shout, Saphira had jumped to her feet, sticking her nose roughly into the tent where Eragon had been sleeping. Roran gave a shout when he saw Saphira's overlarge nose, fangs exposed, slide past his head.

_ERAGON! _She shouted in his mind. _Are you alright? What happened!? _Eragon could sense her concern, and that more than anything calmed him down.

"Oh. Saphira, you remember that dream? The one that wouldn't let me sleep when I was with the Varden? It just happened again, only this time it was clearer." Saphira and Roran both looked intensely interested. Eragon relayed what had happened in the dream, causing Roran to gape and Saphira to rumble.

_Most of the dream is still unclear and I feel like you are missing some important parts. _Saphira picked through his mind and, seizing the visions of the dream, examined them. They all thought while Saphira experienced the dream for herself. _I think next-time you dream this, I should go with you. _

"Can she do that?" asked Roran, "Just butt into your dreams?" Eragon smiled and nodded ruefully. Roran shivered. "Isn't that a bit personal?"

_No. _Answered Saphira._ Riders have no secrets from their dragons, no privacy._Roran blanched in the dark tent. _Eragon, something bothers me: is this like the dream you had about Arya? All those months ago? _

"I don't think so Saphira. My visions of Arya were through you and they were of the present. This is the past, and you did not experience my dream, it was just me." Eragons thoughts were whirring, each one vying for his attention, and yet he couldn't put the pieces together.

"Well, maybe someone wants you to see Vrael's demise." Said Roran finally, offering Eragon and Saphira something more to think about.

"But who? And how? And why? I already know what happened to Vrael, from Broms story. I haven't learned anything new." Eragon was worried, the dream was still too vivid. He could see the blade, feel it against his neck. Hear the dragons' painful roars.

"Maybe Vrael himself?" Offered Roran. "He might want to warn you what happens when you go up against Galbatorix unprepared. Or maybe he left something for you at Utgard. Who knows?" Roran seemed sure of his idea and Eragon let him hold onto it. Eragon knew that from his lessons with Glaedr, that once the body died, the soul too, died. It did not continue to exist, and Vrael could not, in any way, shape, or form, contact him from the dead. It was impossible.

Sensing his thoughts, Saphira spoke with Eragon alone. _Next time you have this dream, reach for me with your consciousness. It was there, in your dream. Pay closer attention to the details, should you dream this again, all the details. This dream may yet have a purpose. _

_This worries me, Saphira _thought Eragon, the root of his problems evident in Saphira's mind. _Who is sending this, is more important right now than the why or how. If someone can catch my dreams, can they catch my mind? _Saphira thrust her overlarge nose into Eragons stomach.

_I don't know, little one. That bothers me too. _She took her head out of the tent, _On the bright side, your mind isn't addled, and I don't sense anything. So maybe this is just a vision. Premonitions aren't uncommon in the sentient races. _

_Brom said that,_Eragon remembered how he had explained what a vision was, and how they didn't occur in dragons, only elves, humans, and sometimes, the dwarves. It had something to do with them being, so heavily rooted in thought, rather than instinct. _I miss him. _

_As do I, Eragon. He was wise, fair, and I feel like you could have learned much more from him. Both of us could. _Saphira's voice was sad in his mind, and there was silence as each went through their memories of Brom. After a while Saphira shuffled and curled around the tent again. _Go to sleep Eragon. I'll keep watch. _

"Finished?" asked Roran, his annoyance evident. Eragon nodded, and then realizing Roran probably couldn't see him as well, said he was finished talking to Saphira. "Do me a favor, will ya' Eragon? Next time you do that mind-speak with Saphira, give me a sign. I had no idea the two of you were talking, until I heard Saphira sigh a moment ago. I thought you were ignoring me, or had passed out."

"I'm sorry Roran. It takes a while to get used to traveling with company. Saphira's always here, but each person I've traveled with treats her differently." Eragon explained.

"Sometimes, I wish I knew what it was like to be a Rider. If only so I could understand both of you some more. I only know the history of the Riders, and even that, not as well as you. But I imagine you went through great pain and struggle to be where you are."

"We did. I am sorry, Roran. I'll try to give some signal that my mind has gone off to chat with Saphira. But lets figure that out in the morning, I want a bit more sleep." Eragon tucked into his sleeping roll and pulled his covers up to his chin. "Goodnight Roran." Roran grunted._Goodnight, Saphira._

_Goodnight, little one. Sweet dreams. _Eragon could feel her smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Lunch**

It had taken Eragon and Roran an easy eight days of flying to reach the area around Helgrind. They were about two leagues away when Eragon insisted that they land. They would have to wend their way closer by foot. They spent the next day traveling out of sight, Saphira and Roran both grumbling as they walked.

"I still don't see why we don't just fly up there and kill them that way? No one takes on a Dragon that easily." Muttered Roran, for about the fiftieth time. Eragon had gotten tired of hearing it and decided to give a reason for them walking the rest of the day.

"Listen to me carefully, fighting the Ra'zac is different. They are strong where we are not. It's very hard to level the playing field. If we 'just attacked them' they'd do everything in their power to haul me and Saphira off to Uru'Baen. Last time Brom and I went up against them, he died and I barely made it away alive. We have to play at their weaknesses. That means, for one, not letting them know we are here." Eragon was frustrated with the walking and had been pondering how to use his and Roran's skills against the impossibly strong Ra'zac.

"Have you come up with a plan?" Roran asks Eragon, actually rather glad that Eragon had responded to him. The silent treatment had been getting on his nerves. Saphira grumbled some more, about how it was undignified for a dragon to be walking.

"Well, no" said Eragon. "I've been going through what I know, and I'm coming up with very little." _Saphira please stop grumbling. We have to do this, I know you don't like it. I've half a mind to ask you to dull your scales, just to make sure we aren't seen. And don't broadcast your thoughts. Just mine and Roran's minds. _Eragon could feel her surliness at the thought of dulling her beautiful hide. But she knew why it was important and walked off to roll quickly in dirt.

_Though mind you,_she said, _I do this only because you ask me to. No wild dragon would ever dull their scales. I'll keep my mind open but only broadcast to the two of you. Now, let's talk about what we know. _

"Good idea, Saphira." He responds, patting her side and then turning to Roran. "She thinks we should brainstorm together about what we know."

"Well, they're ugly, strong, and don't like light or deep water." Starts Roran. He scoffs. "Fat lot of good that will do us. There's no ocean near here. And we can't just make them fight us in sunlight."

_No, _started Saphira, _we can't. But we have the upper hand right now. They don't know we're here. What else do we know?_ She was mainly asking Eragon, for he had read all those scrolls in the Elven libraries.

"Well, they look something like a giant cockroach with a beak under those black cloaks. They'll eat anything that moves. But they aren't human, they ride on the backs of their parents, and they can't use magic."

"That's a blessing." Exhaled Roran, truly relieved at the fact that he and Eragon had a weapon that the Ra'zac didn't. "If those monsters could use magic, I'd just suggest heading back to the Varden."

_But those are just the basics. When do they eat? What hours do they keep? How do they converse? Mate? Do they sleep? These are questions we must answer. _Saphira wasn't musing, she was thinking solidly. When she noticed Roran's confusion she spoke again, _the Ra'zac are hunters. They stalk their prey, observe their habits, find out what they fear or love, and then use that to get what they want. When I hunt deer, I know they congregate in herds at dusk, where they can protect their young in groups. If I want a better chance of catching one, I hunt them at dusk or at dawn, when they are in a large group, and readying to sleep. If we want to be the hunters of Ra'zac, we must know what their habits are._

"That's actually a fair excellent idea, Saphira. Only one problem: how do we observe them without them knowing we are here? We can't just walk up to Helgrind?" Asks Eragon, loving that Saphira was so wise, but seeing the flaw in her almost perfect plan.

"Why not? We could just watch them from the base? Right?" asks Roran. His enthusiasm at being so close to getting to Katrina was palpable.

"Because Brom died the last time we tried. No. We have to stay a steady distance away from Helgrind for the moment." Eragon's words were hollow as he remembered Brom, his death, and the arrival of Murtagh. The night was a blur of anger and pain.

_Eragon, I have it! Remember Cadoc? _Eragon could feel the joy in her thoughts at having figured out a good plan.

"Yes. But he was sold to someone else, miles from here Saphira. You know that." Said Eragon, trying to feel out Saphira's plan, but she was guarding it, so she could tell Roran and Eragon together.

_No. When you met him. You reached for his mind. And Brom said it wasn't unheard of, anyone could bring an animal to them. _She was practically shaking with enthusiasm. _I was thinking, if you can reach for my mind, see through my eyes, than maybe you could do that with some other animal. See through the eyes of a bird of some sort. _

"That's a fair interesting idea, Saphira." Eragon mumbled, his mind racing at the possibility. He would be safe enough, hiding inside the animals mind and the Ra'zac wouldn't be able to sense him. If he chose a small bird, no one would notice it flying around during the day. But it would have to be a bird known for it's curiosity, one not afraid to fly up toward the Ra'zacs lair. But what?

"What are you pondering Eragon?" asked Roran. He had noticed Eragon's silence, but had known that Eragon wasn't talking to Saphira.

"I was musing, what sort of bird could get as high as the spires of Helgrind, without being obtrusive. A bird anyone would excuse its curiosity?"

_Why not just be an eagle? Or a hawk. _Asks Saphira, feeling some disdain that Eragon would be considering a creature other than a hunter of the sky.

"Well. Eagles and hawks are obvious. And they don't tend to be curious. I need a curious bird, one that will be written off as a nuisance, rather than a threat." Explained Eragon. His reasoning was solid. But what bird. The thought was there, he just couldn't reach it. He knew of the perfect bird, but its name eluded him.

Saphira felt his confusion. _Ugh Eragon. I haven't been this confused since Blagden fed you that nonsense in Ellesmera about two being two or two being one or one being two. _Saphira snorted abruptly, blue flame tickling at her nostrils.

"Saphira! That's it! Blagden!" Eragon explained quickly about the pure white raven which followed Islanzadi around, and that was a favorite pet of Evandar's.

"But it's pure white? That calls attention to it, won't it? Besides, you can't just bring the darn bird down here, it's all the way with the elves." Roran was skeptical about the use of Blagden as the animal of choice, and didn't quite fathom what Eragon was getting at.

"No, no. I don't want to use Blagden per-say. But let me see if there are any crows or ravens in the area. A crow can fly around someone's laundry, through their field, and no one will think anything of it, except that it's a nuisance." Eragon melded his mind with Saphira's and the two of them opened their thoughts wide, to accept the thoughts of everything. With some work, Eragon felt only for the birds. Then only for raptors and scavengers. He found the crows breaking apart an old deer carcass. He picked a young one, strong, but young enough to still have some curiosity in it.

_Okay, _thought Eragon to Saphira, _now to see if I can touch its mind and bring it to me. _They young birds thoughts were focused on the carrion. But the second Eragon touched its thoughts it brought its head up, confused. Eragon told it, that he didn't want to hurt the bird, but that he wanted to ask its help. The bird looked around, observed the carcass some more. Eragon promised it meat. It could eat from the kill of a Dragon, unharmed. He showed an image of Saphira and a fresh, half-eaten kill.

The bird was intrigued. It had a wouldn't-that-be-fun, thought process. The thing thought about how great it would be to say he stole meat from the kill of a dragon. How much he could preen and be preened. He would come to the head-voice. With that, it took off, flying haphazardly until it reached the air around Eragon.

"Saphira, you have your lunch. Will you share with him?" Eragon asks, finally disengaging from the bird as it landed at their campsite. It gave a loud _caw! _And hopped over to Eragon. Again, he reached for the birds mind, this time asking if he could test an idea. See through the animals eyes, while being inside its mind. The bird didn't understand, but it liked games. He would play the Mind-Voice's Game.

_Does the dratted little thing have a name? _Grumbled Saphira, looking at the bird which shrugged and hopped in a way that showed off its glossy black feathers.

The bird issued thoughts of confusion. It was just a crow. It was not special enough, it was too young. But now it could be crow-with-mind-voice. Crow-that-took-from-great-lizards-kill. Eragon was confused at how much its thoughts jumped around, yet how they were still organized.

_If you don't behave, you will have the name "Lunch." _Saphira grumbled, grudgingly nudging her kill with her nose. The bird leaped up, happily calling cawing as it dove into the kill. Eragon's mind raced with the birds thoughts of 'lunch-lunch-lunch'. When the crow had eaten it's fill, it hopped in front of Eragon again.

Something about its thoughts had changed. Unlike most animals, they weren't just thrown in there, pell-mell. Eragon felt he could have a conversation with the dratted bird.

_Where now, mind-voice. I have my lunch. What you want, mind-voice? _The birds "voice" was a projection it gave itself. Much like Saphira did, it crowed and squawked its words, in that rough raucous caw!

_Would you like to tell me your name, first? Then we can fly to the Helgrind, the big stone mountain. _Eragon was surprised at how easily he and the crow spoke with each other. He felt that Saphira's presence, much like Evandars spell so many years ago, had magically influenced the crow.

_Lunch. Name is Lunch. Lunch Lunch Lunch. Fly to mountain now? We fly. _It decided after Eragon hesitated. With Eragon's mind still firmly connected, it took off, reaching for the sky. It didn't fly with the same grace as Saphira, it seemed to almost fall through the sky. Eragon carefully attempted to see through the creatures eyes. He did, and it was an alien world. He could see up-drafts, much like he did when he flew with Saphira. But the world was in strangely alien colors. Red wasn't just red, but a bright venom-red. Blue was acid-blue. Green was so strong and bright. Only black had any semblance of normalcy, and it always shined with an iridescence that Eragon figured was only visible to crows. After a few moments, Helgrind came into view.

_We fly there._Eragon said, keeping his words simple. It was dusk and the sun was going down. The Ra'zac were milling about in their lair. Helgrind was a mountain that reached high, high, high, into the air. And rather than their lair being at the very top, it was just under a ridge, which formed a deep cave. Eragon asked Lunch if he would fly around, to see if there were any other entrances. There were none. The cave entrance under the ridge, was the only way in.

_Only way in, is only way out. _Grumbled Lunch, imitating Saphira. _Lunch have fun. We fly back to Scale-flapper. Big-giant-lizard? _

_One moment. _Eragon had the bird land, and watch the cave mouth. The Ra'zac took off on their winged mounts and Lunch shivered, cocking his head.

_Let's go head-voice. If sun sets, Lunch no see. Scale-flapper will be cross. We fly again? _With that, Lunch took off, taking his same haphazard flight back towards Saphira and Roran, and Eragon's waiting body. When Lunch landed, Saphira nudged it. _Ack! Scale-flapper cross! No eat Lunch!_

"Yes, no eat Lunch" said Eragon, still feeling his thoughts whirr with Lunch's odd style of speaking. "I mean. Don't eat the crow. Wow. That was interesting."

"Lunch? You named him Lunch?" Asked Roran, amused at the crow, hopping around the tiny fire Roran had set. He had taken a risk, just in case Eragon and Lunch couldn't get back.

"He gave the name to himself. He is hence-forth, named Lunch. He showed me the Ra'zacs lair. They flew off as the sun set." Eragon took a drink of water, not realizing how thirsty and cramped he was.

"And? What did you find out?" Roran scooched forward, giving Eragon a bowl of oatmeal, with some nuts in it. It was the easiest food to make, without using too much fire. They couldn't have it on for too long. There would be moonlight, mercifully, but the fire went out now.

"Well, they left as soon as the sun set, and there is something in the cave that interests them. They were moving around rather animatedly." Eragon said, putting out the fire. Lunch gave a muffled _caw_ and fluttered around, sitting finally on Eragon's traveling pack.

"And Katrina?" asked Roran. "Is she in there? She's still alive right? Is she awake?" His panic was noticeable.

"I couldn't look. I wasn't sure. Tomorrow, Lunch and I will look further. Maybe, we can find another creature, like a bat, that will let us see into the cave while the Ra'zac are out? But take heart. We've learned that I can see through another creatures eyes, if I am in it's mind. But sleep. I will take first watch as I plan some more." Eragon reached over, and taking Lunch into his lap, he stroked the glossy black feathers. Lunch enjoyed it, and fell asleep, while Eragon thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Some Remain**

Lunch had indeed proven a useful ally. Several times, while the Ra'zac had "rested," for Eragon didn't think they were sleeping, Lunch had flown up the spires of Helgrind. It had gone up there several times of its own accord over the next week while Eragon, Saphira and Roran planned. It had surprised him when the bird had settled down in front of him and started flapping.

_Head-voice no come today? No ride with Lunch? Lunch see much much. _It crowed and cawed its words, hopping from Eragon's knee to his shoulders, to a log, and then back to the ground in front of him.

_What did you see, Lunch?_ Asked Eragon, melding his mind with the birds and trying to see into the birds memories, which was much harder to do with a crow, because its thoughts were completely unorganized. Eragon wondered how it had any sense of time and space.

_Big grubs. BIG! Lunch be preened much, if brought back for nest mate. _Lunch explained, finally finding the image of what he'd seen. The two standing Ra'zac, with their hoods and cloaks up, stood over their parents, patting them and _caressing_ them, which looked like a rather odd gesture to Eragon. Two more figures were on the ground, relatively the size of a small child. It wriggled on the ground, sliming and covered in yellow pus-like liquid. Eragon shivered in disgust. _Big Grubs!_

"Those aren't grubs," said Eragon aloud, pulling out of the birds mind. He shivered his distaste and explained what he had seen to Saphira and Roran. They did not mirror his disgust with the large grubs. Instead the looked panic stricken, with Roran looking very afraid.

"Eragon! What if those are new Ra'zac?" Roran glanced nervously at Helgrind. "What if Katrina ends up being their lunch? No more watching, we have to do something. Tonight." Saphira nodded her agreement to his sentiments fervently. Eragon thought carefully, stroking the glossy black feathers of Lunch's head. His mind raced to his elven scrolls regarding the Ra'zac.

"We will. It takes a few days for the pupae to harden enough to become Ra'zac, and for the Ra'zac to become Lethrblaka. Tonight, we move. Slowly, very slowly." Eragon was nervous. He had no desire to face the Ra'zac head on. They would move slowly, in the hopes of getting them caught in the sunrise. Eragon and Roran slept in shifts that day, Saphira occasionally keeping watch. It was surprising how long they'd gone un-noticed and none of them wanted to press their luck. Lunch happily jumped around camp, irritating everyone and generally acting foolish.

When the sun set and the moon was bright enough to see by, Eragon sought out any night-flyer. He would have preferred a Bat, because they weren't so uncommon in caves, but was relieved when he found an owl willing to go up the Spires of Helgrind. It nestled into rocks and watched the entrance for when the Ra'zac left, which was at their usual time, moonrise.

They dared not approach Helgrind, until the Ra'zac were well out of sight. When neither the Owls keen eyes, nor Saphira's excellent night vision could see the wretched flying creatures, Saphira lifted off like a shadow and approached the Ra'zacs cave. She landed with minimal noise and allowed Eragon and Roran to climb off. Roran had a torch ready and Saphira lit it with a snort of flame. He held out the blue flamed torch, seeking the deep cave for signs of Katrina. She was there, her red hair no longer brilliant and flaming, but pulled back and greasy. She didn't look hurt, but was sleeping. When Roran stepped close, her eyes sprang open.

"Oh! Be gone you foul thing!" she sobbed, looking away, as Roran approached. "Remind me not of him. You only wish to scare me again." She did not break down, but instead, a determined look crossed her face.

"Katrina, it really is me" Roran whispered. "I'm sorry we took so long coming to get you, but we're here now. I'm here now." He reached out a hand to touch her and when she realized it wasn't clawed or scaly or threatening to hurt her, she broke down with happy sobs. Eragon wanted her to shush, while he looked around more.

"Roran, I know she's happy, but quiet her please," said Eragon, looking around the cave, using Saphira's vision to help him see. The two Ra'zac, cocoons were spun into a weird thread at the back wall of the cave, hanging from something that could only be a giant spider web. Eragon saw that the Ra'zac had an assortment of weapons at their disposal, including two very large vials of seethr oil. "Perfect." He murmured, reaching for the bottle with a gloved hand.

"Is that Eragon?" murmured Katrina, as Roran undid her bonds, giving her his water flask. Roran nodded. "He looks, different." She murmured trying to see him better. "Almost, like a prince from a story." Her eyes darted around the cave, which had been her prison, and her eyes fell on a glittering pile of dark gems, that shuffled and moved, then turned bright blue eyes on her. She clutched at Roran, pointing at the mass.

"You say Eragon looks like a prince from a story. Everyone else will tell you, he looks like an elf," Roran murmured soothingly, leading Katrina gently to the mass that was Saphira. "Especially when Saphira, his dragon, is at his side."

Saphira could tell Katrina was fearful, so she didn't approach Katrina's mind, nor did she move much. Saphira blinked, her large blue eyes, soft and non-threatening. Katrina reached a hand forward, and Saphira extended her large blue nose. Feeling warm, living scales, beneath her hand, Katrina relaxed.

"I saw another dragon. I think…" she murmured, tossing her head as she tried to remember. "But, I'm not sure." Eragon pondered whether the other Rider and Dragon Katrina had maybe seen were Murtagh and Thorn or the bastard pair of Galbatorix and Shruikan.

_You will have to search her mind. Unpleasant as that may be,_ thought Saphira to him privately. _What do we do about those foul things? _She asked, pointing with her tail at the Ra'zac young. Katrina jolted, stumbling backwards.

"She talks" she muttered, dumbstruck.

_You thought me as mute as a Rock-lizard? Foolish humans._ Grumbled Saphira, _you never learn. _She rumbled gently and then thought better of it as a few pebbles dropped from the ceiling. Eragon looked up warily, eyeing the stalactites, and praying that the ends wouldn't fall and cleave him in two. He brought the seethr oil flask and poured its contents into a large bowl. He took his dwarf blade and, dipping a cloth into the oil, rubbed it on the very edge of his blade.

Roran took a quiver full of arrows from a side wall, dipping each foul black point into the oil. "We'll get them with their own weapons?" He asked, making sure. "I like this idea. They can't get back in their own cave, and if they fly off for reinforcements, we can disappear on Saphira."Eragon nodded, handing over a human bow, since Roran couldn't draw Eragon's elf bow. Eragon's eyes fell on Katrina.

"There are two of them" murmured Eragon, handing Roran the quiver full of Seethr Oil arrows, "And I'd much rather like to even the odds some. If not kill them outright." Roran nodded and readied himself at the cave entrance. Eragon looked at Katrina. "Take these," he said, handing her a pair of his gloves, "don't let the oil get on your skin. Rub it into anything they might put close to their skin, or in their mouths, or touch with their bare hands." He handed her the leftover flask and she moved around, taking the rag to rub the Seethr Oil into the clasps on their cloaks, or the insides of their gloves, which hid their gruesome clawed hands.

"What about these slimey things?" she pointed to the cocoons. Eragon avoided the thought. He didn't want to kill the Ra'zac young, not in cold blood, yet he knew they were dangerous, and would only be a greater threat to him. He avoided them for now. If anything, they could be used as leverage against the existing Ra'zac. They might do anything to protect their young.

_I wouldn't be so sure of that, Eragon. Maybe it would be best to flame the dratted little cockroaches, while they are still soft. _Saphira's reasoning had a bite of anger to it, and he knew she was remembering the oaths betrayed, the egg's broken, and the damage done by the Ra'zac.

"We'll wait" said Eragon. "We have much of the night yet. Though the sun rises soon."

"Can we push them into Leona Lake?" suggested Katrina venomously, finally finding a chance for sweet revenge on the creatures which had so painfully imprisoned her for months. When he shook his head, she went over to stand next to Roran, who put an arm around her. They waited in silence, for several hours, with Saphira keeping watch on the entrance. She'd fly out and look around, and Eragon would have the Owl, which had not left yet, look around to see if maybe it saw the Ra'zac. As they felt dawn approach, the cocoons squirmed, causing the people in the cave to look back at them.

_There. _Snorted Saphira, looking out into the sky. Eragon dismissed the owl with a hurried thankyou. It flew off, diving for the ground and the cover of the scant trees. Eragon creeped over to the cocoons, he drew the blade, cutting them from their spiders web, the cocoons hitting the floor with a thud. They squirmed, letting loose piercing shrieks, which made the Ra'zac only approach faster. Saphira decided she'd had enough waiting. She was held back by Eragon, who wanted the Ra'zac within arrow-range, before she flamed their young. She held her flame, but as the Ra'zac approached, she let loose a belch of blue flame, and the threads caught fire, eliciting small screams from the cocoons.

"Saphira! Keep the Ra'zac away from this entrance," Eragon shouted as she swung to face them, opening her maw to let loose a column of blue fire, which jolted the Ra'zac, and they ducked her fire. They were agitated, Eragon could feel it. The sun rose, and the light would surely weaken them, and their young wailed in agony on the inside. Eragon steeled himself on the inside. He opened his mind, feeling the people around him, Saphira, the Ra'zac young, the grown Ra'zac and the Lethrblaka.

The lethrblaka. They would die, now that they had given birth to a second pair, and the Ra'zac would become Lethrblaka. "RORAN! Shoot for their mounts!" he yelled and dug his sword into the cocoon, splitting it wide open. It opened to an oozing mass that was all soft skin and no muscle. They had no bones, only an exoskeleton and inner organs. The Seethr Oil burned through with a hiss, causing the things to writhe. He slit the other one open, cutting through giant portions, letting the mass hiss.

"Eragon!" screamed Katrina, pointing to the entrance. The Ra'zac got closer as they avoided Roran's arrows and Saphira's flame. He handed Katrina the blade and set himself up at Saphira's side and started his first volley of arrows, pulling the cumbersome black projectiles into his elf bow, and muttering in the ancient language to ensure that they flew straight. He felt the young Ra'zac behind him scream again, and saw Katrina dump a whole bottle of seethr oil onto the two young.

"Vengeance has an ugly taste," he said to Saphira under his breath, as arrow after arrow crunched into the skin of the Lethrblaka, making them swerve as the Seethr Oil mixed with their bodily fluids, burning them painfully from the inside. Saphira let loose a particularly large tongue of fire and one Ra'zac's cloak caught fire. It flew backwards. "GANGA FRAM!" Eragon yelled into his arrow, and it struck the Lethrblaka's head.

The creature plummeted, the Ra'zac on its back struggling with a burning close. The other Ra'zac pulled its mount backward, but the idiot creature could only go towards its squealing young. Roran was still firing arrows, though it seemed Katrina had finished her torture of the Ra'zac young, and she tossed the contents of her stomach into a corner. Eragon was surprised that the creatures had fed her. Roran's arrows flew in wider arcs, but one pierced the Lethrblaka's wing, and it screamed. When Saphira let loose another go of flame, the pair fell out of the sky. Eragon took careful aim, he let loose one last arrow, deep into the Lethrblaka's skull.

Saphira was shaking._We should go after the Ra'zac, now. _She clutched the ledge on which she had been flaming. _That was almost too easy. _

"We'll have to fight the Ra'zac hand-to-hand, and that won't be easy" Said Eragon, laying a hand on her side. Roran leaned back, exhausted.

"Can they survive a fall from this height?" he asked, looking down. Eragon shrugged.

"I hope not. But if they can, I'm rather glad that they can't fly. And even Helgrind is too smooth to climb, especially with injuries." Eragon, dropped the torch into the heart of the cave. He hoped the flames burned anything and everything worth burning and that the Ra'zac couldn't return to the site. Saphira gave a startled roar as a ball of black feathers hurtled into the cave.

_Big bugs keen._Murmured the crow, tumbling to the ground. _Men come. Many men. With big thorn sticks._ He hopped onto Saphira's side then fluttered to Katrina. _Bad. Angry. Head-voice go now with Big-Lizard? _

"Come on," said Eragon, wrapping an arm around Katrina's waist and hauling her up behind him into Saphira's saddle. Roran was right behind him. "The Ra'zac are calling reinforcements. We have what we came for, and four out of the six gruesome things are dead." Saphira leapt from the ledge, catching air easily. Lunch flew at her head than landed on Eragon's outstretched hand.

_Lunch come with?_Said the bird, cocking its head, and Eragon handed the bird to Katrina, who sat in front of him, her legs in the straps. _Lunch stay here. Want to go. Go with Head-voice. _

_You can come with us Lunch. Head-voice's name is Eragon. Big-lizard is Saphira._Eragon explained, hoping maybe he could avoid the name 'head voice' and hoping that Saphira wouldn't kill the bird which had so endeared itself to Eragon, because she was known as Big-Lizard.

_Lunch go with Eragon. _The crow cawed and Katrina held it tighter.

"Katrina, this is crow is named Lunch. Please don't clutch him too hard." He explained, looking at the creature nestled into her arms. It didn't look afraid. Eragon looked behind him and down. From what he could see, it was only soldiers and there was no sight what-so-ever of Murtagh or Galbatorix.

_Where to now? _Asked Saphira, flying westward towards Leona Lake, as far away from Helgrind as she could get. Roran tapped his shoulder, holding up a folded map. Eragon took the map from him, pondering while Saphira flew and the wind whipped through his hair. Eragon took a calming breath and focused on the landscape beneath them and what was on the map.

"Let's try getting across Leona Lake first. We'll take refuge in the Spine. We can go wherever from there." Eragon decided, folding the map and handing it back to Roran, who lodged it into a saddle bag. Eragon spied the dwarf blade hanging at Roran's waist. He was sickened by the blade. Not because it was a bad blade, because it wasn't. But he had killed with the blade, killed in a way that repulsed him. The Ra'zac young, for all they were dangerous and disgusting, had been helpless and he'd split them open like summer peas.

_What's on your mind Eragon?_ Thought Saphira, sensing his discomfort. She flew steadily across Leona Lake, the expanse of blue beneath her matching her sparkling blue scales.

"I think I have a name for that dwarf blade," Eragon thought bitterly, taking it from Roran and wiping off the guts from the Ra'zac, then wrapping the blade, sheath and all in a piece of cloth. "You are named Carachlìn" and he bid Roran pack the weapon away.

"What does it mean?" asked Katrina innocently, "What language is it? Is that the language of the elves? Have you learned to speak elf?" Her questions were many.

"The name is in the dwarf tongue, for it is a dwarf-made blade," explained Eragon with some hollowness to his voice, "In their tongue, _carach, _means slayer. The blade's name is Slaughter." Eragon, because of some strange guilt, couldn't bear to wield the blade again, unless faced with the most extreme circumstances. He had not simply killed, he had slaughtered, without mercy. It made him sick.

"Impressive name," said Roran, patting his brother on the back. Eragon shook his head.

"You may carry that blade, Roran. If you wish it. For, I believe, I cannot in good conscience, wield it again, save for the direst situation." Eragon was solemn, but resolute. He knew Roran would have less use for the blade, being as Roran had not been trained to use a sword. But he could learn. Eragon shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind.

_Do you feel so bad about what you did? _Said Saphira, touching his private thoughts._We saved Katrina, and rid Alagaesia of the Lethrblaka, and a future of Ra'zac. _

_I feel horrible. The Lethrblaka were not Garrow's killers. The Ra'zac were. And they still live. _Explained Eragon, hoping she would get a better explanation from his feelings rather than his organized thoughts. _In the meantime, I feel bad for slaughtering, yes slaughtering those, who could not defend themselves. It was as unfair as Du Fells Nangoroth, where hundreds of eggs were broken. _He felt Saphira understand immediately. _I don't blame you or Katrina. I don't even blame myself. I just feel guilty that I had to exterminate them like that. _Saphira was quiet after that comment. She flew steadily for the shore of lake Leona's side that was near the Spine. The sun rose fully, beating warmly on her bright scales.

"Eragon," sighed Katrina, leaning backwards so that he held her, "Thank you, and Saphira. For coming with Roran. To rescue me." She fell asleep, cradling Lunch in her hands. Eragon felt better, knowing that he had indeed saved her life, and horrible knowing that he would have to probe her mind later.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Kuasta**

Saphira had made it safely across Leona Lake around lunch time. They couldn't linger, but Katrina insisted that she was sick from the altitude at which Saphira was flying and that the swaying of her body took some getting used to. Eragon bid Saphira land by the lake and Katrina stumbled clumsily to the ground.

Roran was all for eating lunch (not the crow) on the ground. Katrina agreed but asked if she could wash in Lake Leona's waters. Eragon assured her it was safe and that he wouldn't watch. Roran provided Katrina with a spare set of clothes, since Katrina's were filthy beyond compare. She belted the waist of the overlarge tunic and had needed to hold the leggings up with a piece of rope, until they could stop in a place long enough for her to tailor the clothes to fit her shorter and slimmer frame. Eragon gave her the sewing kit which he kept at the bottom of his pack (since he rarely needed to sew).

Saphira was swimming in Lake Leona's waters and had come up with a large fish in her claws, she gave some to Roran for himself and Katrina, and then happily ate the rest. Eragon watched her, remembering that the last time Saphira had swum in Lake Leona, was when Brom had been with them.

_We didn't even get to go see his grave, _he'd thought, looking across the Lake to Helgrind and farther, where he knew the diamond tomb flickered in the sunlight, a permanent monument to the old Rider, who had been like a second father to Eragon. _It would have been nice to see his face again, if only to tell him we miss him. _

_Little one, I know you are preoccupied, but maybe it would be best to search Katrina's mind now, _suggested Saphira, nudging him in the back. _It may be easier on her physically, to do it later, but I fear if she grows comfortable, that your searching through her mind will only terrify her again. Best to get it done now. _

_Alright Saphira. I don't like probing her mind, I want to avoid her thoughts about Roran. _Eragon stood up and walked over to where Katrina was seated, after having devoured her lunch. Eragon knelt in front of her and she looked confused.

"Yes, Eragon?" she smiled, when he continued to look at her. Eragon pulled on his magic and spoke in the ancient language.

"Eka weohnata neiat haina ono. Eitha eom iet lam," Eragon said steadily and Katrina's eyes faded as she trusted his words, though she did not understand them. _I will not harm you. Take my hand. _She had extended both her hands to him and Eragon took them in his. As she trusted him and the magic Eragon extended his mind to hers and found it absurdly easy to get into. Slowly, carefully, he went through her memories, skimming quickly through her childhood, her youth in Carvahall, pausing only occasionally as he saw memories of himself and Roran. He flitted through the memories of Roran, which involved copious amounts of kissing.

As he got to the Ra'zac, he watched the battles around Carvahall, Roran's proposal, her kidnapping and her time with the Ra'zac. She had slept through the worst of the encounter and had woken in the cave of the Ra'zac, where they had terrified her daily. Her only respite from the torture was when a young man came to see her. He would bring her some small comforts, like food that wasn't dry and tasteless. He didn't terrify her, though she couldn't remember any of the encounters fully, Eragon got the entire hidden memory. Murtagh had visited her in the Ra'zac's lair, when it was night and the Ra'zac were out.

He too had rifled through her memories, and had watched the same memories Eragon had. He had talked continually to Katrina, and Eragon didn't realize why, if he would go through the effort to force her to forget the memories, he would continue talking. He was kind to her, pulling back her fiery red hair, and washing her face. It wasn't until Eragon really listened to Murtagh's words that he realized why Murtagh had talked continually.

"Eragon, I know that should you rescue this girl, you will seek her mind. She will only have vague memories of me, and I have done my hardest to ease from her conscious mind the memories of the Ra'zac. But you will see this memory, even if she won't." Said Murtagh, whispering gently as he washed Katrina's hands. "I will tell you now, Galbatorix is incessant on hatching the last egg. He has been looking for children of other Riders," Murtagh looked frequently behind him and Eragon saw a flash of red scales. "Apart from the elves, few Riders ever had children. For a long time, I was the only one he knew about, and now you. But I will admit to you, I do not think it was Morzan's blood that made us Rider's. I believe it was Selena's. And while Galbatorix scours the country-side for Rider's children, I warn you to protect your cousin, for he too share's the same blood as Selena, though through her brother. Roran has the presence of a Rider. Now I go. I do hope you rescue her, soon."

A roar sounded from Thorn and Murtagh patted Katrina's cheek, and disappeared from the room. The Ra'zac came back several times, and Katrina didn't see Murtagh again. When he got to her memories of the past week, he too moved the memories of pain and torture, of the battle, and her hurts into her subconscious, so she wouldn't feel the bite of them, save for when she was most afraid. Eragon pulled easily out of her mind and back into his own.

"Thank you, Katrina," Eragon sent her gently into a dreamless sleep. Roran cradled her clean, sleeping form and looked at Eragon. "She's asleep. Magic can be exhausting on those who have never experienced it worked upon them."

"What did you do?" Roran asked skeptically, giving Eragon a wary look. Eragon went back to his place across the fire and took a bite out of his traveling cake.

"Understand that I did this because I had to, and not because I wanted to," Eragon munched tiredly on some dried fruit. "I sought her mind to see which other Dragon she had seen. And in her memories of the past month, I found Murtagh."

"I don't like that you've searched her mind, but I'm rather interested in what this brother of yours did to her" Roran seethed, he was annoyed at Eragon, for invading Katrina's mind, but the idea of Murtagh searching her mind, touching HIS fiancée, peeved Roran more.

"Really?" exhaled Eragon, wondering if he should tell Roran about the message Murtagh had left in Katrina's mind. "He was nice to her. He brought her good food, clean water, washed her face and hands, combed her hair and pulled it away from her face. He was a general comfort to her. He didn't do or say anything bad to her."

_I think Murtagh's message would best be kept between you and me, _Saphira muttered into his mind. _It has a sort of symmetry, don't you think. Three human brothers, for the three last eggs? We must keep Roran out of Galbatorix's hands at all costs. Even if it means that the third egg doesn't hatch. _Saphira expressed an intense desire to go after the last egg, but then closed her mind to dragon thoughts Eragon couldn't follow.

"That's it? Why do all that?" asked Roran.

"I think, because he knew Galbatorix still wants you. He talked to her, occasionally asking her about Carvahall, and needless to say, you and me. But I don't think he gained any knowledge that Galbatorix didn't already know. She was more bait, for you. Murtagh was just keeping her alive." Eragon didn't like lying to Roran, but if he could encourage a wariness of the Empire in both Roran and Katrina, they could avoid him being hauled out in front of the last egg.

"Did you do anything else? I mean, you said you worked magic on her?" Roran tucked a strand of Katrina's hair behind her ear, touching her in almost the exact same way as Murtagh had. The idea of symmetry irked Eragon.

"Yes. I helped her mind deal with the memories of the past few months. She'll remember, but I've dulled the pain. So they won't terrify her." Eragon said quietly, leaning backwards and finding Saphira's warm scales supporting him.

"Can you do that?" Roran asked, looking up at Eragon. Eragon nodded and closed his eyes.

"Mind you, I'm not erasing her memories, just blocking them, so it's like she already worked through the horror. She'll just remember them; they won't haunt her." Eragon tried to explain, and Roran nodded, looking back down at Katrina. "She didn't feel a thing." Eragon and Roran rested some, with Eragon's mind continually searching the surrounding area for forms of life. Far away, in Belatona, Eragon could feel the minds of hundreds of people whirring and buzzing. Someone had come bearing news of the Blue Rider and the people were excited. Eragon ignored it, not finding any threatening thoughts amongst the people in Belatona.

_We should probably go, _Saphira said into his thoughts. _There is still some daylight left, and I would rather not wait here. This side of the Lake is relatively quiet, but I don't want to risk it. We should head for the Spine. _She pointed to the mountains, not too far in the distance, with her nose. Eragon nodded.

_But go where? _He asked, getting up to look at the map. _I'm tempted to just return to the Varden with Katrina, but I feel like I should deal with that odd dream first. Why go to the Varden, if Vrael's dream ends up sending us North or West? _Eragon unfolded the map and Saphira looked at it over his shoulder.

_Let's go there,_ she pointed to the far edge of Alagaesia, nearly onto the water. Eragon looked closely at the spot at which she'd pointed. Kuasta. What did he know about Kuasta. It was a small city, nestled in a forgotten corner of the Spine. They had odd traditions and most people thought they were weird. But, Brom was from Kuasta.

_I like the way you think. People there might be sympathetic to the Rider's and our cause, if we remind them that one of their own was a Rider. If not, we can always have Roran and Katrina enter the city to get supplies._Eragon's mind raced with thoughts and Saphira smiled smugly._Okay. We go to Kuasta and we should probably make the Spine by tonight. I think we, you, could cross this here part, _Eragon pointed to the part of the map that showed the Spine's tail, _in one day._

_It is a good idea,_Saphira nodded and stretched. _Wake Roran, and let's get that girl between you and Roran. _She stood and went to stretch her wings while Eragon cleared up their temporary camp, explaining to Roran what he and Saphira had decided. Getting the sleeping Katrina into the saddle had taken some creativity. Roran had finally gotten up first and Eragon had magically lifted her to the height. When Roran had tied the girl in, Eragon had climbed up Saphira's foreleg, and swung into place in front of Katrina. And for all of it, Katrina slept.

When they landed in the Spine, Roran woke Katrina and, though she was initially a little surprised to see them all, she was her usual, happy, and energetic self. She bustled around the campfire and chattered at Saphira, instantly pleased whenever Saphira responded back. She spent the night in Roran's bed-roll, and Eragon carefully avoided it all night.

Eragon woke the next morning to Lunch's beak pulling at his hair. He swatted at the bird and Lunch made a loud cawing sound. _Eragon wake up? Big-Lizard in bad mood. _That woke Eragon up immediately. Saphira was indeed in a black mood, her tail flicking angrily from side to side, tearing a hole in the ground. When he reached out to her, she blocked him out, which she usually didn't do anymore. He felt around with his mind for what might be the source of her displeasure. The only things in the clearing were Eragon, Lunch, Roran, Katrina, and Saphira herself. When he looked around he found Roran and Katrina were both awake, murmuring at each other, and being generally tender and caressing and kissing. It made Eragon feel awkward to look at it, but he didn't see how it was bad.

_Saphira?_ He tried again, _Please don't ignore me Saphira, it hurts when you do that. _She looked at him and huffed angrily. _Won't you tell me what is bothering you?_

_They are. _She grunted, looking venomously at Roran and Katrina. Eragon saw Katrina and Roran kiss again. _There. They're doing it again. Reminding me, it's bad enough that all the other animals do it, but must they mock me as well? _

_Saphira, I don't think they're trying to mock you._ Said Eragon, walking over to Roran's bedroll. He nudged Roran with his foot. "Desist from whatever amorous activities you were doing or planning to do, or Saphira will eat you." He said it loudly enough that they flinched. Then Eragon went over to where Saphira was crouched angrily. He pushed his forehead into her face. She pressed back and Eragon smiled. _It's just kissing. Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?_

_It's not just kissing. It's awkward because the more they kiss the more amorous they get. If they are amorous enough they will mate, right there. Firstly, I don't want to hear them mating, secondly, if they do mate, it will only remind me of what I can't have. _She was grumbling sourly, and looked away, embarrassed. Eragon felt sorry and tried to calm her but all he could do was wait for her to ease up.

"What's eating her?" asked Roran, stoking the fire for a quick breakfast. Katrina was still a bit mussy from sleep and kept hugging Roran. Eragon rolled his eyes and stalked over.

"Stop that," he hissed, grabbing Katrina's arm as she went to go hug Roran again. "You upset Saphira with your foolishness." Katrina pulled back from his harsh words.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, "But, I didn't know I was doing anything wrong."

"You're kissing upsets Saphira. And it makes me feel awkward. Short kisses are fine, but if you are going to romp around, please do it as far away from us as possible." Eragon knew his words were terse and harsh, but he let go of Katrina's arm. Katrina looked affronted and Roran looked peeved. Then he looked over at Saphira and he realized that Eragon's grumpiness was tied to Saphira's foul mood.

"Katrina," murmured Roran, putting an arm around her, "Neither Eragon nor Saphira are morning people. He's rather grumpy when he wakes up, so forgive him his rudeness. But he's right, we should probably wait until things are safer until we" and he gave her a look and she nodded understandingly, murmuring an 'of course.'

To Eragon's immense surprise, Katrina approached Saphira. "Saphira?" she said, extending an arm, like she would to any human individual. "I'm really sorry you're upset. We didn't do it to upset you. I just haven't seen Roran in a long time and I never really got to express how happy I was to see him yesterday." She approached closer, and Eragon wanted to warn her away, because bugging Saphira like that wasn't a wise thing to do. Saphira set her large blue eyes on Katrina in an angry glare. "I won't say I won't kiss him again. Because I will. But I have to get used to being around you, and you around me."

_Dragon's do not accommodate anyone save their Rider's. _Saphira snapped angrily, still glaring at her. _You will not mate with Roran while you are around me, or I shall leave the both of you in the middle of the Spine. _

"That's not very fair" Katrina said stubbornly. "Roran and I are going to marry, and that is one of the things married people do."

_You aren't married yet! _Snapped Saphira with a rumble. Eragon considered approaching Katrina, just so Saphira wouldn't eat her. _And Dragon's aren't known for their sense of fairness. _

"You can't stop us," Katrina shook her finger angrily at her. Saphira looked affronted and jolted into a sitting position.

_OH YES I CAN! _She roared and Katrina trembled but held her ground. _Do not mock me, human! _Saphira knocked over a small tree with her tail, which had whipped angrily to the side. _You will not mate with Roran until you are married. If you do, I will grab Eragon and fly off, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. _

"Who are you to stop us? We're free humans? You aren't my father, or Garrow, or the King. Why should we even listen to you?" Katrina was arguing with a dragon and Eragon was just too flabbergasted to move.

_I AM A DRAGON!_Saphira roared again and let loose a steady stream of flame at a clump of trees, spreading her wings wide, and snaking her head from side to side, her claws clutching the ground violently. Katrina did not move, nor did she back down.

_Saphira! _Eragon called to her mind, _I just want you to notice, that Katrina is brave enough to face a Dragon in a temper, and stubborn enough to stand her ground. _Saphira thought about what he said and snorted loudly.

Saphira heaved angrily, looking between Eragon, who was ready to jump in front of Katrina, and at Katrina herself. She gave one final snort and the turned her head away. _Like Eragon said: Kissing is fine. That is as accommodating as I will be. _

"Will you calm down?" Katrina asked, putting her hands on her hips. Saphira snorted, jerking her head back to stare at the woman. She let loose a growl. Eragon decided to step in at that point. He went to Saphira's side and put a hand to her neck. Saphira continued to rumble and Katrina finally backed away.

_Maybe she isn't so brave. Just foolhardy and stupid. _Saphira grumbled, glaring at Katrina, and jerking her head from side to side. _You know I don't suffer fools easily. _

_You suffered me,_Eragon said with a joking tone. Saphira lightened up some after that. He played with her, reminding her of a few jokes and comforting her. _Come on, we go to Kuasta today. We might meet someone from Brom's family? Won't that be interesting?_

_Have the girl sit behind Roran. No, have her sit in front of you. You will not cuddle her, and she is less likely to be flirtatious with you. _Saphira grumbled and eventually calmed down enough to fly. Roran mounted up first, and Eragon settled Katrina in front of him, tying her into the straps so she wouldn't fall. Eragon could tell that Roran wanted to know why Katrina was so far from him, and why couldn't she just sit between them like she had yesterday, but found it wiser to keep silent. Saphira lifted off easily, jostling them a bit.

They flew in silence towards Kuasta, the mountains underneath them, disappearing in a blur. When they'd gotten to the point where the Spine branched, they followed between the two branches, flying over a large brushy forest, changing color in the autumn air. Saphira's wings beat at a steady pace that ate up the ground underneath them. It was nearing sunset when Kuasta finally came into view. It was a large blurb of lights in the distance. Saphira flew over it and people came out, cheering and calling and pointing.

"It's Saphira!" one man cried excitedly! "Hail, Saphira! Well returned!" Saphira flew over closer as Eragon felt their minds. None were blocked, in fact they welcomed him into their thoughts, and they expressed a great joy of seeing Saphira, again. _Again? _Saphira landed in the town square, her wings still open and her muscles bunched and ready to spring them into the sky again. One man ran forward, he looked like he had run all the way across the city to greet them.

"Welcome back!" he yelled, looking up at the place where Eragon was. "Dragon Saphira, you were much missed." Saphira looked at him confused. "I am the new headman, Pfizz."

_Headman Pfizz, we are glad to be greeted so warmly, but I have never been to Kuasta before. _Saphira projected into the clearing, her wings still outstretched.

"But of course you have. Your Rider brought you here several times. We have long awaited the return of Kuasta's favored son." Pfizz was happy and honestly smiling at them.

"Headman Pfizz, do your people harbor any anger towards the dragons?" asked Eragon from his back. Pfizz looked at him, and shook his head no. Eragon took the chance and dismounted. He extended his forearm to the headman, who took it hesitantly. "I am Eragon, Eragon Shadeslayer."

"Well met Shadeslayer," said the headman, confused and looking for someone. "Where is he? Saphira's rider?"

"I am Saphira's Rider." Eragon offered, a bit confused.

Pfizz looked taken aback. He stumbled backward and looked onto Saphira's back. "But, then where is Brom?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Thelona**

Pfizz looked taken aback. He stumbled backward and looked onto Saphira's back. "But, then where is Brom?"

Eragon's mind frantically reached for Saphira's. _Now what? _He thought at her. The most horrible thing would be for the people to think that he had 'stolen' Saphira from Brom, the same way Galbatorix had stolen Shruikan.

_Let me handle it,_Saphira said to him, pushing her nose forward. _Headman Pfizz, the dragon you know as Saphira, Dragon to Rider Brom, was killed in battle over a century ago. I am a different dragon. My name is Saphira, daughter of Vervada, Dragon to Rider Eragon, and hatched only a year ago. _

"Did Brom die with his dragon?" Pfizz asked, concern written into every line of his face.

_No. After his Saphira died, Brom stayed on and eventually joined the Varden in their battle against Galbatorix and the Forsworn. _Saphira explained carefully, projecting clear thoughts that, although she was technically silent, everyone could hear.

"Galbatorix still lives, though mercifully, the Forsworn are gone," mumbles Pfizz, drawing a star over his heart with a finger, three times.

_Thanks be to Brom: he was instrumental in the death's of several Forsworn, killing a few personally, including Morzan. Later, he assisted in the retrieval of my egg, and he personally trained Eragon in the skills necessary to be a Rider. Tragically, he died this Spring, trying to protect Eragon and me from the Ra'zac. His last hope was that Eragon and I join the Varden. _

"So Brom is dead? Alas, so great a loss for all of Alagaesia." Mourned Pfizz. As Saphira had explained that Brom had indeed died, a deep moan escaped from the men in the plaza. Eragon, unnerved by it, reached for his sword, only to realize he didn't have one. As he looked more closely around the plaza, Eragon realized that people openly wept at the loss of Brom. Women keened and children let cry little wails of sorrow and misery. He was unnerved by how honestly and openly the Kuastan's grieved their fallen hero, their "son."

After the crying subsided some, to sniffles and the occasional shuddering breath, Pfizz spoke again. "We must go to our temples. Beg the Gods to accept him into the Valley of Hero's, and to forgive us for not burying him with the proper ceremony." People dispersed, heading for their temples. Pfizz motioned for Eragon to follow him.

_Headman Pfizz, Brom was buried. And not in a rash travelers grave. Eragon and I lavished as much honor on his tomb as was within our power as a Dragon and Rider. _She projected the sight of the Diamond Tomb, both from ground level, and from a distance away, with Brom's face serene, as though in sleep.

"Where is this place, Dragon Saphira?" Pfizz asked, excitement creeping into his words.

"A mountain not far away from Helgrind" said Eragon, lengthening his stride so that he walked next to the headman of Kuasta.

"Such joyous news you have given me!" He jumped around in a circle, three times. "It will be a site of pilgrimage, for our young people. A place to journey to and offer homage to the last of the Old Rider's."

_Pilgrimage? Than I suggest you travel armed, for Galbatorix will be sure to dislike people honoring a rider who was not sworn to the King. That area is filled with soldiers. _Warned Saphira, showing especially the people of Dras Leona and those that lived in Helgrind.

"Oh wise Dragon, we will take heed of your words," Pfizz bowed, his arms crossed across his chest. Saphira nodded and tapped him to continue walking.

_Wreak havoc on the men of Galbatorix, for me. _Saphira rumbled, shuffling her wings and letting loose a loud roar. Lunch hopped up and down on her saddle, crowing raucously.

"Headman Pfizz," said Eragon, realizing that they would be staying as guests in the headman's own house, "I am very glad your people have received us so warmly, but I am given cause to wonder: What is expected of us here?"

"Expected? Why nothing, Shadeslayer" Pfizz laughed joyfully, "You have already given us much cause for activity. You will only be expected to dine with the Kuastan elders tomorrow night. Other than that, you are free to rest and enjoy yourselves until you choose to go." Pfizz pointed around the side of his house, towards what Eragon assumed was a visitor's wing. There was a large garden with flowers and a large expanse of lush grass. Saphira settled down as Pfizz lead Eragon into a room, that opened to said garden. As Eragon approached the door, he remembered a small bit of protocol passed down to him from Angela: he knocked thrice upon the frame of the door. Pfizz smiled.

"Well, this is very nice" Eragon said looking around at the room. It was large, comfortable, but not extravagant. "We don't mean to stay long. Today, tomorrow, maybe the day after. But we'll have to leave after that."

"Then, let us outfit you for travel. You will be given food, clothes, and supplies for your trip," Pfizz knocked on the door frame as he walked into the room to stand next to Eragon. "You and your companions will be given the best Kuasta has to offer. And do not presume that you will pay for anything: it is a small gift that we can give to one who has brought us news of our long lost son."

Roran had picked up on the knocking on the door frame bit and had also knocked on the frame as he entered, encouraging Katrina to do the same. Katrina carried Lunch and placed him on the back of a chair as she walked into the room. Pfizz nodded, bowed, and left through the door which lead to the main house, knocking on the door frame as he left the room. "A servant of the house will come in a few moments to bring up a bath and a change of clothes for the three of you. If you wish anything, ask it of her."

"Thank you very much, Headman Pfizz." Eragon said reverently, with a nod of his head and watched the headman walk away. Eragon walked out into the garden to where Saphira was and removed saddle and saddle-bags from her back. She had been relieved at the freedom of mobility and suggested rather snidely, that several of the bags needed repacking for later. When Eragon returned inside, the servant had already arrived, a modestly dressed, if slightly no-nonsense woman of about 35.

"Hail, Shadeslayer," she said with a bow, arms crossed in front of her chest. "If you'll follow me." She led them to a washing room and, rather like the elves washing rooms, there was a large basin, with openings for warm and cool water. She showed them where clothes were, bringing a dress for Katrina, and let them know that whatever clothes appealed to them, they could pack and take with them when they left. Eragon nodded and let Katrina and Roran wash before him, pulling the servant aside and asking if their own things could be washed while they were here. The Servant accepted them in a basket found under the larger of the two beds in the room, and busily handed off the basket to a maid-servant who was waiting outside their door.

"Since it's rather later in the day," said the no-nonsense woman, "We will bring you the supper tray. Then you can sleep safely tonight. Is there a specific time you wish to be woken?" Eragon wished he knew her name, thought maybe he should ask for it, than realized that if protocol had demanded he know the woman's name, she probably would have said it when she had introduced herself.

"An hour or so after dawn will be fine, miss….." he let the end hang, hoping she would fill it in with her name. When she didn't, Eragon continued. "We would like to speak with Headman Pfizz, if he's not too busy, and see some of Kuasta while we are here."

"Most excellent. I will notify him of your request, and will have a guide to show you around the main house, as well as the rest of Kuasta." The woman nodded curtly, and then left the room. When Roran came out in a fresh tunic and trousers, rubbing a towel through his damp hair, Eragon took that as a sign that he too should bathe. When he had finished and returned into the main room, their dinner had arrived.

Eragon picked through the soup, pulling out tidbits of meat, and dropping them into Roran's bowl. He didn't like that the soup was essentially a beef-broth, but he set his distaste aside and ate the soup anyway. The salad of fresh tomatoes and pickles with cheese pleased him, and he ate twice more than Roran and Katrina did, the cheese was so delicious. He finished off the meal with one of the rolls, filled with nuts and pieced of dried berries. When he looked up from his food, he realized that Katrina was looking at him oddly.

"You're different." She stated, musing at what specifically struck her as odd. Roran laughed out loud.

"He's got a dragon, done magic, fought with the Varden and trained with the elves, and now you say he's different? What brought that on?" Roran said through his chuckling. He wasn't insulting Katrina, he just couldn't help but laugh.

"Stop it, Roran," Katrina said, lightly cuffing Roran's arm. "When did you do magic?"

"Yesterday, when he sought your mind," said Roran lightly, before Eragon could answer. Eragon glared at Roran, perturbed.

"You sought my mind? Why?" said Katrina, suddenly on her guard. Eragon wanted to hit Roran. Most people didn't know Rider's could do magic regularly. Their deeds were supposed to be special and magical, yes, but not on a regular basis.

"I had to Katrina. You said you had seen another dragon before, and I wanted to know who else had spoken to you" he felt her question coming, but rather than answer what he saw, he added "I do trust you, it's just that with the amount of bad things that could happen to me and Saphira, I couldn't take the risk that your mind wasn't being controlled. I've taken far too many blind risks: I cannot place myself, Saphira, or the cause I support in danger, just because Galbatorix found out through your memories that I don't like string beans."

"A taste you might want to re-examine given your current vegetarian state," mumbled Roran. Eragon glared at him again. "What? You said you don't eat meat. Maybe you should reconsider eating vegetables."

"I haven't eaten string beans since you attempted making them for dinner and I got food-poisoning. I can't look at them without being sick to my stomach. Knock it off, Roran" Eragon gave him a pointed look and mentally explained to him _leave the magic of the Rider's out of it. Yes, now she knows, but do you mind not blabbing that about? And don't mention the elves much in public either. Those sorts of things tend to put people on their guard. Understand? _Roran nodded and Eragon heard his disgruntled affirmation in his mind.

"You're a vegetarian? Why don't you eat meat anymore, Eragon?" asked Katrina, intrigued by this sudden new tidbit of information. Eragon sighed, tired.

"Ask me again when we leave. It will give us something to talk about when we fly with Saphira." He picked up the tray of food, scraping the leftovers in front of Lunch, who gulped them happily, then placing the tray of food outside the door. He let Lunch out, to fly around Saphira, who had been brought a deer haunch for dinner. Eragon threw himself into the smaller bed, rolling into the covers, mumbling his goodnights.

As he dreamed, Eragon recognized that his usual dreams had shifted into his Vrael dream. He noticed the white-blond hair, the searing pain in his side, and his attempt to reach the mind of the dragon upon which he flew. Mid dream, something changed in his mind, and rather than flying as Vrael, Eragon flew along with Vrael, behind him, calling Saphira into his dreams. Saphira's mind flew with his, hearing things he did not. Along with the usual strange sensations, Eragon heard the flapping of Dragon wings.

_Dragons' wings. There are two dragons. Listen. _Saphira rumbled through the dream, and Eragon listened, watching Vrael turn around to look behind him and to the side. Underneath them, mountains passed, revealing the Palancar valley, and ahead, the Mountain Utgard, Edoc'sil,_Unconquerable. _Eragon listened harder, and did indeed hear a second set of wings flapping, a muffled heartbeat behind the green dragons, almost in tandem.

When he's in the cave, Eragon feels and sees something big, pass him. _The second dragon. _Saphira affirms, watching something make its way towards the back of a cave, underneath and to the side of the great tower which is Utgard. _This entrance must have been used for the Rider's, when it was the middle of the night._ Thought Saphira, observing the cavern through Eragon's minds-eye, since she couldn't physically be in the dream. The cave was a side entrance or a getaway exit, since there was no courtyard attached to the watch-tower.

_You mean like now? What color was the other dragon? _He asks Saphira, watching Vrael shuffling around the cave, handing off a large bundle to a person, _A Rider_ obscured in shadows. A great rumble like a cave-in or some massive shuffling of rock and stone, reverberated through the cave, and Eragon turned around abruptly to the shriek that accompanied the arrival of Galbatorix and Shruikan.

_I don't know. It's dark even for a Dragon's eyes. But the cave is different, spatially. I think it's smaller, though that might just be from the cave in we heard. _Saphira says, watching as Galbatorix and Vrael fight, and hearing Vrael's dying words. "Elhàna," just like before.

_But the other Rider, he and his dragon were back there! What happened to them? Why don't they come and help! _Dream-Eragon was frantically looking at the cave, his brain spinning, as Vrael died. The green dragon, wailed his misery and Eragon and Saphira saw the beast land inside the cave. Just as they were about to see a little bit more, the dragon gives his dying roar and both Eragon and Saphira bolt awake. Saphira echoes the roar, swallowing it before she wakes up all of Kuasta.

Eragon sought out Saphira's mind, only to find her distressed. _Saphira, that wasn't you! That was Vrael's green that died. Please Saphira, talk to me. _Eragon called out to her several times, tossing the bedcovers aside and running into the garden where Saphira lay sleeping in the moonlight. He was tiny compared to her, but it was Eragon's hand on her side that soothed Saphira down. When she had shaken some of her distress out, Saphira was ready to talk.

_Eragon, we must find out what that word means. And we must, absolutely must fly to Utgard. _She told him, lowering her head, so that Eragon could hug her nose.

_You felt the Vrael's Dragon die, didn't you? _Eragon said, holding onto Saphira, wishing that she was just a bit smaller, so that she could hold him in return.

_There was more to that dream, Eragon. I want to know what else happens, _Saphira said sadly, knowing that they'd both have to live the pain of Vrael's and his dragon's deaths at least one more time to understand the point of Eragon receiving this dream. _Go to sleep, Eragon. I want to ponder what we saw. _

_Don't stay up too late. _Eragon told her, returning to his bed to finish out a few more hours of sleep. He had no dreams after that. He woke the next morning, to a manservant knocking on the door, and hauled himself up, opening the door to let the man know that he was indeed up. After dressing and waking Roran and Katrina, Eragon was given a tour of the house, where he ate breakfast with Headman Pfizz. The Headman was pleased that Eragon was there and chattered about the different Elders Eragon would meet that night at dinner, which was to be in the garden in front of the Headman's house, since the weather was still nice. They needed to have the event outside, since there was no place that was big enough, indoors, to accommodate Saphira.

When he left, the young manservant who had shown him around, offered to lead him on a walk through Kuasta. Eragon was most pleased, but asked if the young man could tell him some of the "social niceties" of Kuasta, traditional greetings and general manners, so that Eragon didn't do anything foolish or accidentally insult someone while he was there. The man agreed happily, but reminded Eragon that, as a Rider, no one was really going to care if he accidentally used the wrong honorific or didn't bow the right amount.

"Still, I'd rather know something, than nothing at all" Eragon said, pulling on a light cloak and placing his elven bow with full quiver on his back. He didn't have a sword, but he'd be damned twice if he didn't have some weapon with him as he walked.

_I'm coming with you,_ Saphira echoed in his mind, _meet me out back. _Eragon suggested they take the back entrance and meet Saphira. The manservant who would be his guide, looked hesitantly at the dragon, but when he realized that Saphira would not eat him, he came forward with a bow, arms crossed over his chest.

"Is that a specific kind of bow used for Rider's and Dragons, or just anyone of great honor?" Asked Eragon, as the man led them down Kuasta's main street. Most people moved aside to accommodate Saphira, but generally did not stop and stare at either of them.

"It is a special bow, used only to a Rider and his Dragon. We have not had cause to use it before now. The usual bow is with just one hand, elbow tight, fist clenched at the opposite shoulder. But for Riders, we always use both arms." The man, who's name Eragon learned to be Kadun, explained that there were three types of bows, and when to use them. Saphira learned with Eragon, though when she would use them, Eragon didn't know, since she rarely acknowledged anyone as her superior, and only gave a curt nod of her head to those she 'respected.'

Children occasionally ran up to Eragon and Saphira, bowed in the arms-crossed way, kneeling on the floor until Eragon or Saphira touched them with a hand. They would happily squeal and go running to tell their friends that they had been touched by the Shadeslayer or his dragon, causing other children to come running forward. Kadun told them that they were blocking the path of the Rider and his dragon, and being a general nuisance.

"May we touch their shadows?" pleaded one little girl, kneeling before Eragon, her fingertips just inches from his shadow. Eragon didn't want to make the mistake of blessing any of the Kuastan children like he had Elva, all those days ago. But the little girl was persistent. When the other children had long since walked away to leave Eragon and Saphira alone, the girl had come back.

"Forgive them, Shadeslayer, but they have only heard of the Riders in stories" Kadun said, looking at the girl with extreme annoyance. He looked ready to push the girl aside, but didn't want to look bad in front of a Rider. Eragon, for all he was careful, was not annoyed by the presence of the children. He had never been given reason to talk to children: why would he want to, and who would want Eragon, the boy with no parents, to look after their children?

He put up a hand to silence the Kadun's next words. "Give me a minute." He knealt down in front of the girl, putting a hand beneath her chin. "Little one, what is your name?" He asked her. The girl's eyes were a fierce and terrifying gray, so pale a gray, that they were almost white. Eragon shuddered mentally. When he looked at the girl again, he felt with his mind to find that she cared for the feelings of others, protecting those who were teased and bullied, though she herself was bullied, and never backing down from a fight. She was kind and brave.

"Kata," she murmured, trying very hard to look away, but being unable to. Eragon's brown eyes were just as expressive as her pale-gray ones, and with Saphira's blue head in the background, she found it very hard to do what was appropriate.

"And why do you want to touch the shadow of Eragon Shadeslayer, known as Argetlam? Or that of his Dragon, Saphira Brightscales, known as Bjartskular?" Eragon asked gently, lifting the girl up off the floor. She bowed and tried to kneel again, but Eragon's hand was firm under her arm, not letting her drop.

"Because, then I can be a hero like you." She whispered, looking determinedly at the ground. Eragon lifted her face to him. He paced around her.

"I don't know," he murmured, pretending to think. "I think you could be a hero," he walked around her in a circle, three times. "Have you any heroic deeds to your name?"

"Maybe. I saved a kitten from getting smushed by a horse" Kata whispered, still looking determinedly at the ground. "And a couple of times, I got one of the smaller kids out of trouble."

"Saphira, does that sound like a hero to you?" Eragon mused aloud, looking at the Dragon. The girls eyes shot upward to see what the dragon would say. Saphira cocked her head to the side, looking at Kata with one large blue eye. She looked at Eragon and nodded. "I would have to agree. That's more heroic than me. Why, she saves people every day. I don't do that."

_Listen to me, little Kata. _Says Saphira, projecting her thoughts so anyone within ten feet can hear her. _You are already brave, why do you bow so low? Why do you cower? Only the bravest can approach a dragon, with their head held high. You are a hero, stand tall and do not cower before anyone. Bow, yes. But cower? Never again. _Kata straightened immediately, as though someone had poured steel into her spine, and she looked forward with her eyes blazing.

"Because, you're important, I would be punished severely if I didn't" Kata mutters, and Eragon can feel that she is a bit flustered, not expecting to hear the rumbling rasp which is Saphira's speech. But she does not cower, and Eragon doesn't think she will ever again.

_She's brave. Coming up like that. Of all the children around here, she is one of the few worthy of a Rider's blessing. _Eragon thinks to Saphira, and hears her agree with him. _Very well, she needs only a little more confidence, that can be given without magic. _Eragon took an arrow from his quiver, one of the white goose-feather fletched elf arrows, given to him by Islanzadì. With a few well chosen words he chose two symbols, and etched them into the wood of the arrow which, when combined, meant "Dragon Friend" and held the arrow out to Kata.

"A hero needs a symbol," Eragon said, handing her the arrow, "Take this arrow, and the marking upon it, and know that you are Kata, Dragon Friend, a hero in your own right" and with that he bowed to her, one arm crossed over his chest. Saphira, with some dramatics, reached her head high into the air, and roared, letting loose a column of bright blue flame.

Kata's eyes went wide and her mouth formed a small O and she trembled at the display of a Rider bowing before her and the flaming dragon. But as she looked at the arrow, with it's elf marks denoting her as Dragon Friend, she nodded. "Thank You, Rider Eragon Shadeslayer, and you, Dragon Saphira Brightscales," she bowed, one arm crossed over her chest. Eragon smiled to himself and knew that Saphira was smiling as well. He stood straight as the girl rose from her own bow. Before he knew what had happened, Kata gave Eragon a hug and, jumping up a bit, kissed his cheek, and ran off. "Thank you! I won't let you down! I'll be the best hero I can be!" She called out behind her, waving with a big happy smile. A group of boys looked envious and another group of children, which he surmised were her friends, looked excited as she showed them the arrow of Eragon.

"She's sweet. She cares, and she's got courage to speak her mind. That's good." Eragon said to Saphira, putting an arm on his dragon's side. Saphira chuckled and nudged Eragon forward. He looked at Kadun, who was so dumbstruck that he couldn't move, "Well, I don't know my way around, but I'd like to see the temple district, if that's not too much to ask." Eragon gestured at the street, and Kadun stuttered then led them up a side street into the small temple district. There were several Gods worshipped by the people of Kuasta: The Mother of Earth, the Father of Fire, Brother of Water, and Sister of Sky. In front of the temples of Fire and Sky were large bouquets of flowers, which Eragon assumed were for Brom and his Saphira, because Dragons (and their Riders) were typically recognized by the ability to fly and breathe fire. But there were also candles set up on the steps of the Mother Earth's temple (since man is a creature of the earth) and in front of Brother Water's temple (since Brom's Saphira had also been a blue Dragon, blue being the color of water).

It was only a short while before sunset when Eragon and Saphira had returned to the Headman's house. There were many people bustling around and when Eragon walked through the front gate, Headman Pfizz descended on them. "I heard about your little blessing today. I didn't know that such an honor existed" he chattered, pushing Eragon a bit roughly towards the back of the house to the Guests wing.

"The girl, Kata, is a hero at heart. I hope that the gift I gave her will not be taken away?" Eragon mused, pulling away from Pfizz's urgent pushing. Saphira growled low, to let the headman know that she did not appreciate the way he was handling her Rider.

"No! Of course not! I simply did not know that there was such a position as 'Dragon Friend.' It is not mentioned in the old texts." Pfizz, motioned for Eragon to keep walking.

"There isn't. Saphira and I just thought of it" Eragon said, walking into his room, with a brief knock on the doorframe. "Does that change anything?"

"Of course not! Rider Eragon. The girl has been blessed. If it is her wish, she now has the right to train as a warrior with the boys" Headman Pfizz said, knocking on the door. "The Elder's will arrive at sunset. You and your companions are bid to bathe and dress appropriately, and then come down into the Front Garden at Sunset." He bowed swiftly, arms crossed, and fled from the room, pausing only at the doorframe, to knock thrice.

Eragon looked around the room, to find Katrina and Roran already dressing. He nodded a greeting that went to bathe lightly. When he returned, Katrina was asking if she should wear a brown skirt or the brighter red skirt. Roran was of the mind that both looked fine, but he preferred the brown one. Katrina looked pointedly at Eragon. He agreed with Roran, mainly out of a prejudiced dislike for anything red (which reminded him of Murtagh, Morzan, Zar'roc, and Thorn). She shrugged and went to put the brown skirt on.

"Madness. I swear," grumbled Roran, pulling on a pair of socks and then shoving his feet in boots. Eragon dressed quickly into his elven clothes, which he thought looked the best, and looked the best on him. Their clothes had been washed and left folded in the basket, just inside the door. Eragon sorted through the clothes, packing several items immediately into his saddle bags. Roran followed suit, and both young men added some of the clothes provided by the house into their packs, specifically socks (which Eragon couldn't have enough of). Roran also packed a bag for Katrina, letting her know through the changing screen that she should add any other items that she found essential.

"So what did the two of you do today?" Eragon asked, using a rag to polish a scuff out of his boots. Roran bid him toss the rag over and Eragon complied easily.

"Well, we had a leisurely morning, wandered around the house. Then one of the women of the house took us to the market. Katrina looked at some things, but we didn't buy anything. We came back here, toured the house," Roran rubbed vigorously on a spot on his boot.

"Eragon! You should see the Library the Headman has! All sorts of people just come into the house to use it!" Katrina said over the changing screen, coming out in the brown dress, a cream blouse, and her red hair pulled into a tight braid. "And I hope you don't mind, but when one of the kitchen women came in to ask if we had any favorite foods, I told them you were a vegetarian and didn't like string beans."

Eragon laughed and thanked Katrina, and they walked into the front garden, Saphira trailing behind them. Eragon knew from breakfast, that Kuasta's Elders were, literally the oldest people living in Kuasta at the time, and they were from all walks of life, representing the people in council decisions, and advising the Headman, with their years of experience. Few of the old people give Eragon a complete bow, crossing their arms with just a bob forward.

Unlike the elves or the Varden, the people of Kuasta ate on cushions on the floor, and Eragon was given a large burgundy cushion at the head of the table. He felt like a lazy prince, seated in the large pillow, with several blankets and smaller pillows thrown gracefully around his "seat." Seated behind him was Saphira, who required no pillows, not that she'd have taken them if they were offered. On his right was Headman Pfizz. On his left, an older woman, white hair whiter than cotton and foggy blue eyes sat down, with a gruff "evening, Shadeslayer."

"Good evening," Eragon said politely, looking down the table to see when the food would be arriving.

"The name is Elder Thelona, you stripling," the old woman said rather loudly, and something in the way she spoke to him piqued Eragon's interest. "You have no idea who I am? Do you? No doubt that fool brother of mine never mentioned me? No, of course not." She glared at him, and her eyes sparkled, no longer foggy. And Eragon knew who she reminded him of.

"You're related to Brom!" Eragon said excitedly, leaning toward the older woman. She huffed and nodded, then softened when she looked closer at him and Saphira.

"I am his youngest sister," Elder Thelona said. "Normally, the oldest Elder will sit at the guest of honor's left hand, but because of my relation with the Riders, I have been given this coveted spot." She patted her hair and her dress, making sure she looked presentable.

"Are you very old? Brom was over a hundred when he died." Eragon asked, hoping she wouldn't cuff him for being so rude as to ask her age. She explained that when Brom had left for the Riders, he had been 16, and she had been about 7. She was just under a hundred, and at 97, one of the oldest people in Kuasta, though certainly not the oldest.

When the food was brought, he realized the old woman, like Eragon himself, only ate vegetables. Though that was because, she recognized that the only reason she was as old as she was because of the amount of herbs and vegetables that she consumed, eating meat only rarely.

"Look over there, Shining-palm," the old woman pointed a gnarled finger towards a group of young men, each a different generation, though with the same bright blue eyes as the old woman. "The oldest one there is my son, then my grandson, and great-grandson. My great-grandson's wife expects a babe come spring. I hope to see that great-great-grandbaby. That is my family. Brom's family." Eragon was surprised. Few people (save the elves) could say they lived long enough to see their great-great-grandchild.

"I never knew my sire, but I counted my mother's brother, my uncle Garrow, as my father. When Garrow died, Brom took me under his wing. He trained me, showed me how to survive. Taught me how to read, and think, and fight. He became a second father to me." Eragon explained quietly, hoping the old lady was not going deaf, though he thought that unlikely. "I guess that would make you my aunt, granny-lady."

"Well!" laughed the old woman, "I guess that would! I must say, I'm glad I had a Rider for a brother, and now, another Rider for a nephew!" The woman laughed heartily. "Most of my nephews are old and graying, but you, young man, are by far the youngest nephew I've got."

Eragon liked the old woman. She had a demeanor that reminded him something of Brom, but for all her age and "wisdom" she was jovial and light in her heart and speech. Eragon found he rather enjoyed the old woman's company. By the time dessert made its way to the table, the old woman had told Eragon several stories about one or another of her sons, and Eragon had likewise shared with her some stories of Brom.

About halfway through their desert (an apple custard that he found both tart and sweet and rather liked) Brom's sister, Thelona, reached for Eragon's hand. He gave it to her, and she looked at it intently. As Eragon watched the old woman, he noticed her eyes got cloudy, the blue fading until it was almost white, the edges of her pupils blurred into the blue. When her eyes sharpened, Eragon pulled his hand away gently.

"I am old, Shadeslayer, and I am no great Seer, but I have been given the power of Knowing things." Her voice was harsh, and Eragon surmised that she was still clutched by whatever power had made her eyes fade in such a way. "You have been told your future, by a Witch. And by a being of Magic," she was not asking him. She was telling him.

"A werecat." Eragon said quietly.

"Shush, let me finish," Thelona said quietly. _That_ reminded him even more of Brom. Brom was forever telling him to be patient, and not interrupt or ask so many questions. "Know this: You are on the right path. But I must warn you: people trust you, not for your elf-like powers, but for your humanity; your human heart draws the men of Alagaesia, elf dwarf or man, to fight at your side." She pokes him with a gnarled finger, straight over the heart.

"Know this as well: you are headed in the right direction. He calls you. He calls you, but you must _answer_ his call. Answer his call, as Eragon, or the dreams will drive you mad." She added finally, than shook her head. Her son, who had a graying beard, rushed over, and suggested that it was time for them to return home, and Eragon said his goodbye's to the old woman. She tapped her son, telling him to greet his youngest cousin, the "son" of Brom, and the young man bowed, and allowed his mother to kiss Eragon's cheek.

After Elder Thelona left, most others began to leave, and Eragon thankfully was allowed to return to his room and tumble gratefully into bed. He had a lot to think about.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Utgard**

When Eragon had woken up, it was just after sunrise, and he wanted to limber himself up with a few sword exercises. But since he had forgone the sword made for him by the dwarves, he decided to do the Rimgar instead. He moved slowly at first, as he went through easy, medium, and hard moves, and the longer he moved the faster he got. When he finished, he found Katrina watching him, her head cocked to the side.

He walked over and she gave him his breakfast. She didn't say anything, just handed it to him, with some water, and then returned to the room, not bothering to knock on the door. Eragon wondered why she had been watching him, and how long she had just been standing there while he exercised. When he walked in, and Katrina didn't say anything, Eragon figured she was still rather awed by the fact that he was a Rider, and she was still getting used to it.

After a quick bath, to rid himself of sweat, Eragon sought out Headman Pfizz, alerting him that, that evening he and Roran and Katrina would be leaving. They were headed north, to handle something that had come up and that they were very grateful. Pfizz insisted that Eragon take everything he needed for his journey. After that was done, Eragon sought out Katrina again. He found her in the library, looking at all the books. Eragon himself was rather impressed with the Kuastan library, finding three books devoted to the history of the Riders, and several scrolls on dragon's and elves. Eragon pulled them down, skimming through the scroll and the books, hoping to see some fact or tidbit he perhaps didn't know.

They were rather redundant, only telling legends and stories about the Elves and Riders. He did however find himself absorbed in the tale of Fundor, who fought the great ocean serpent, and his rider, Hethorian, who slew the vicious captain of a pirate ship. And how together the Dragon and his Rider, scoured the sea to rid it of menaces to the people of Alagaesia. Eragon was so absorbed, he skipped right over the spell Hethorian was using (a very simple and general spell that only sounded interesting because it was in the ancient tongue) but his mind did a back flip when he read the last word on the page. Elhàna. He went back, reading the crude imitation of elf, that had been written into the story. But the last word, Elhàna, stood on its own.

Eragon frowned at the scroll. It couldn't be a misprint. But what in the name of Aiedail could it mean? He turned the page, looking for a post-script, or a footnote of some kind. Nothing. The book had no dictionary for elven terms used in the tale. Frustrated, he huffed and snapped the book shut. He glanced over the scrolls, looking for the word, finding it twice at the end of a spell, being woven by a Rider, but still no definition. He said the word aloud. Twice. Nothing happened. He didn't want to test it along with a spell, for fear of blasting the nearest living creature (in this case, Katrina) into a thousand little pieces.

"WILL I NEVER HEAR THE END OF THESE RIDDLES!?!" He said loudly, to no one in particular and glared at the book, willing it with his mind to tell him what "Elhàna" meant. Of course, the book did nothing. Katrina however, put a cool hand on his arm. She nudged her head at the door and the two of them walked out of the library (Katrina walked, Eragon stalked). She walked next to him quietly. "I'm sorry." He told her, for lack of anything better to say.

"You're frustrated. It's a good thing we are leaving this afternoon." She said with a smile, pushing back a strand of her bright red hair. "Eragon, I know Saphira is already carrying the three of us and our supplies, but could she carry a few more things?"

"Like what?" asked Eragon, putting aside his frustration with the Riddle that was his life, and focusing on the present.

"Well, for one, a whole third set of eating utensils," Katrina said, seriously considering what she wanted to add. "My clothes will be there, of course. I wanted to suggest a new cooking pot, being as the old one won't hold out much longer and a cooking knife. And a sewing kit, and laundry soap." She double checked the list that was in her mind, and decided that was it.

"Well, I agree with you on the kitchen supplies: that pot is old, and you do need eating utensils. But why the cooking knife? We have several?" Eragon asked, reminding himself to bring the sewing kit out of the bottom of his saddle bags.

"For one, yours is dull, and secondly, it's not balanced. I figured, since you and Roran were contributing the protection part of this flight, I could at least make dinner when we land. And as a butcher's daughter, I will only work with the best knife." She said, poking him in the ribs.

Eragon laughed, "Very well, you can have your cooking knife. We can pick them out from the kitchen. They'll have extra's. As for the sewing kit, I have one." He told her, leading the way towards the kitchen so they could get some of the supplies they'd need.

"No man has any idea how to sew. No doubt you've got two needles and a spool of thread and that's it." She said, giving him a piercing look. Eragon gulped and shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. She gave him an 'I told you so' look. "So, I will need that. And laundry soap." Eragon acquiesced. Those things wouldn't take up a lot of space.

Katrina asked for the supplies she figured they'd need, foodwise. Eragon simply lent his presence to the situation. He knew that none of the staff would dare deny Katrina anything her heart desired, just because Eragon was standing there. He felt bad being so cocky, but then wrote it off as simply a trait he'd picked up from Saphira. After getting her knife, a new pot, plate, bowl, and eating utensils, they stopped by a supply closet for the sewing kit and the laundry soap. She got laundry soap in a bar, rather than in its usual flake method, because it would last longer. Eragon, meanwhile, carried the foodstuffs that he would pack in Saphira's saddle-bags. Someone looked ready to protest, but Eragon told them that he would be fine, and that this was how he tested how much weight Saphira could carry.

Roran was in their room, observing Saphira's saddle, and the harnesses and the like that strapped it to her back. When Eragon and Katrina arrived, Roran leapt up to relieve Eragon of some of his load. Swatted away, he grabbed the pot, which was perched precariously in Katrina's arms. Eragon had them bring out the stuff they'd bring, and carefully repacked, and redistributed a few things. His, Roran's, and Katrina's "personal" belongings went in three knapsacks that they carried on their backs or strapped to the top of the bags, since that was where the weight was easiest to control.

Hoisting the saddle and harness (without any of the accompanying bags) he walked out to Saphira. She saw the saddle coming and crouched in a way that allowed him to climb up one handed. The saddle fit perfectly into place and Eragon looped the piece that went over her chest. He adjusted the leg straps so there was another set for Katrina. Roran came at them from the side, the saddle bags thrown over his shoulders. Eragon lifted them magically, not wanting to climb down, and attached them the Saddle. When he was set, he settled his bow into its holster across the back of the saddle.

Since it would be rude to just mount up and leave, Eragon urged Saphira around to the front of the headman's house, that way people could see she was packed and ready to leave. Headman Pfizz came out, as did many of the people who lived in the surrounding area. A few approached Saphira, wishing her well on her journey and safe flying. She nodded to them, closing her eyes lazily. Eragon looked around, wishing he could stay a bit longer: but his time to travel was less and less every day. In less than a month, he had to be in Farthen Dur, and after that, by a week, he would have to be in Cithrì. Whenever he looked at his map, he wondered if flying to Utgard was at all wise. They would have to traverse a circle around the rim of Alagaesia, in forty days.

Eragon was interrupted from his musings by Headman Pfizz, "I hope you found Kuasta enjoyable, Blue-Rider?" He extended both his hands and Eragon, having learned this good-bye the other day from Kadun, took them, grasping Headman Pfizz by the elbows.

"I did. I enjoy all the places I visit." Eragon said, letting go of Pfizz's hands. "I feel that I could make a home in every place I visit." He wondered in the back of his mind if there would ever be a place he could call home. Home was safety and family and warmth and, although he had Roran, his world and his life allowed him none of the others.

"You are welcome in Kuasta, any time, Blue-Rider" said Headman Pfizz, "again we thank you for all that you have brought us. Fate's blessings, we will see you and your Saphira again."

"Se onr wyrda ateira," murmured Eragon, "Or 'as fate wills it'" he translated for the man. "Goodbye and thank-you." Eragon looked around at the people and leapt into Saphira's saddle. Katrina and Roran said a few polite goodbyes and climbed up. "Se onr mor'ranr ono finna!" He called out to the crowd as Saphira spread out her monstrous wings. _May you find peace. _

_AND MAY YOUR SWORDS STAY SHARP! _Saphira roared, launching herself into the sky, and with a few awkward flaps unnoticed by those on the ground, she rose into the sky over Kuasta. Eragon looked down on the city, as Saphira flew over it, watching as people ran from their homes to wave goodbye and call fate's blessings to the two of them. As Saphira gathered speed over the temple district, Eragon saw Elder Thelona leaving the temple of Sister Sky, a simple candle in her knobby old hands. Saphira spiraled around the temple, and flew upwards, gaining altitude as the old woman held up her hand in goodbye.

_As fate wills it, we will meet again 'aunt' Thelona. I want to see that great grand nephew of mine. May peace live in your heart, Granny-lady. _He sent the thought to her mind, finding her mind surprisingly welcoming for his thoughts. She smiled and Eragon was saddest to say good-bye to this sister of Brom.

Saphira turned North and made for the mountains on the other side of Kuasta Bay. Luck willing they would make the mountain's edge by sundown. Flying steady and strong over the water, everyone enjoyed the view, even Saphira. She found a few thermals and updrafts, and instead of flying she soared, letting the air carry her. The water underneath them was a clear and perfect blue, the same rich and luxurious color of Saphira's scales. Her dragon shaped outline was only visible as a shadow on the water. Eragon felt that, if he tried, he could see straight into the depths of the bay. After a while Katrina poked him on the shoulder, to ask Eragon about why he had stopped eating meat.

He had explained the cause and effect process that had led to his decision, and that he did not, by any means, condone those who ate meat. It had simply become a personal preference for him. Katrina found she understood his reasoning much better than Roran did, who thought it was only natural to eat the other animals. Katrina had sometimes felt bad when animals had been brought to the butcher shop for slaughtering, alive.

The next few days were brisk (weather-wise) but calm. There were no storms, no horrible cold fronts or heat-snaps. No bad wind. In fact, the weather was on their side, they made a long flight in next to no time. It had taken them four days to traverse a stretch of land that had taken Eragon and Brom a whole season on horseback. Saphira landed at the sides of the Anora River, at the cleft between the mountains, Utgard rising up like a monster on their left: all brown and gray rock and dark green scraggly trees. And at the top of the mountain, barely visible (since it was getting dark) the Guardtower, the last out-post of the Rider's: Edoc'sil. Unconquerable. Save by dragon-back. The place where Vrael had died.

"We have to go up there?" Roran asked, pointing at the distant tower. "There's no way we can climb up there and survive. Why, the right side of the mountain is a solid cliff wall!"

"The elves call that tower, Edoc'sil. Unconquerable. No army can take that guardtower on foot. You would need a dragon to get up there." Eragon said wryly, "And lucky for us, we have a Dragon." Saphira snorted and settled down to rest. She had stretched her wings a little harder to make it to the base of Utgard before nightfall.

Katrina bustled about, making a cooked rice, to which she added some meat for her and Roran and Eragon added beans, nuts, and some mushrooms he had scrounged up before it had gotten too dark to see. Katrina asked if they could land a little earlier next time, so she could find some edible vegetation, like wild spinach or lambsroot, which were common all over the spine. Eragon had stared upward at the mountain while he ate his dinner.

Was Vrael's spirit there? Could it be waiting for another Rider to release it? His mind buzzed with question's, his rice going sticky and cold as he pondered. Eventually, he forced himself to finish his dinner and went over to Saphira's side. He laid out his bed-roll next to her, since it was colder in the mountains than in the rest of Alagaesia, grateful for the warmth in Saphira's belly. Roran and Katrina were close by, but not directly at Saphira's side. Roran was on watch and Eragon went to sleep.

His dream self flew up the side of Utgard, the cliff side. He was on Saphira, and they were circling the tower, seeing nowhere for a Dragon to Saphira flew at the side of the cliff, Eragon saw a ledge that had been scored by hundreds of Dragon-landings. She made for it, entering the cave, her eyes adjusting to the dream-darkness. Eragon couldn't see anything, and just as he was about to get a sight of the place, when Roran had shaken him awake.

Eragon watched the mountain, wondering how long until dawn, so that they could fly up to that cave. To find out once and for all what on earth Vrael wanted with him. Dawn was slow that morning, finally bursting over the horizon in a blush of red and pink and gold, touching the forest, in the distance. Eragon reheated dinner for breakfast, and hunted up a few more wild mushrooms. They all ate quickly, gulping their food in the desire to get up the mountain, Utgard. Saphira took to the sky, and flew steadily vertical, hoping to find the cave she had seen in her dreams the night before.

She'd had to fly around the top of the mountain several times before Eragon had spotted the dragon-clawed outcropping of rock. While she had circled, they had observed the remains of the once proud Tower. Wood beams that had rotted through, almost completely from exposure to the elements, causing the walls to crumbled inwards in several places. In some places, wood timbers stood out like some grossly disfigured skeleton. It was disappointing to see this place so lost to disrepair, but without the Riders there was no one to maintain it. Eragon felt several eagles roosting in the tower, but it had seen no human's in many years.

When they had finally spotted the cave and Saphira had landed, Eragon lit a torch so they could see better inside. Since it was, well, dark as a cave. On the left wall, there was rotted door, which Eragon surmised, led to the tower. He held up his torch to the right wall, which had been decorated with a graceful carving of a woman, and a tree. It's roots arched in ways that were familiar to him, and he realized that the carving was an interpretation of how Linnea had sung herself into the Menoa tree.

"Oh, it's so beautiful" murmured Katrina, touching a hand to the face of the woman, carved into the stone. Eragon briefly explained the story of Linnea and the Menoa Tree. When he finished, Katrina had tears in her eyes. "That's so sad, so beautifully sad." She wiped her tears and followed the roots of the tree to the back wall. She gave a small scream and both Eragon and Roran ran over, Saphira snaking her head in so that she too might be able to see.

On the back wall, on what had once been a carving of Ellesmera from above, were two horrific claw marks. Unlike the claw marks on the ledge outside, which cut into the stone, these marks appeared more like scars, marring the carving upon the wall. Eragon wondered why the marks bothered him.

_Eragon, those marks are like scars. They come from inside the stone. _Saphira rumbled, coming closer to the wall. She could, surprisingly, fit. But then again, the cave was made for Riders, and their Dragon's. She raised a claw to the marks, drawing them downwards into two slashing strikes. _The claws that made this were those of a dragon far bigger than me. See how far apart they are spread? I would not like to be in this dragon's way when he made these marks. _She projected her thoughts to her companions. Katrina stepped up again as Saphira backed away.

"Saphira, what creature made these marks?" she said putting her hands to a second, much smaller set of "scars" in the stone. Eragon stepped forward, seeing where Katrina had put her hands. He recoiled in horror: the scars in the stone were made by human hands. And judging from the eerie way in which Katrina's small hands fit the shapes, the marks were made by a woman. Or, someone very young.

"What human has the strength in their nails to leave scars in stone?" asked Roran, touching the scars with his own fingertips.

"Elves, Rider's, anyone with magic," Eragon mumbled, looking at the sides of the wall, hoping to find some special lever or a falling of rock. _I heard a rockslide in my dreams. Where is it? Is there a "behind" this wall? Is that where the dragon and his Rider are?_

_I don't know, Eragon, _said Saphira, confused as he was. Her nose brushed the scars made by another dragon, probably centuries ago. _Eragon, I don't know about you, but I'm sleeping as far away from that wall as I can. I don't know which marks I find more frightening, the big ones which have destroyed the carving, or those small ones. _She projected the second bit, to both Roran and Katrina.

"I'm with Saphira," said Roran, his hand still touching the large claw marks. "It's almost like there IS a life here. The stone itself seems to have a story to tell."

"But stone isn't alive," said Katrina, not really arguing with Roran. She had backed away from the strange and frightening wall. Eragon feels for life, and is surprised when he feels himself, Roran, Katrina and Saphira. And then just _that wall_.

"The dwarves believe stone is alive. Not only that it is alive, but that it can grow." Eragon went over to sit next to Katrina. "Let's stay in this cave tonight. Nothing is going to fly up here, so we can all get some sleep. We can all down to get some firewood, and Katrina you get some foraging done." They nodded solemnly and unpacked most of their belongings from Saphira's back, save a few essentials, and Saphira brought them down the mountainside. While Roran and Eragon got some firewood and kindling set up into bundles, Katrina gathered up some dandelion, mushrooms, and considered herself very lucky at finding asparagus tips. Saphira had felled a roe deer and offered a piece to Katrina, who happily accepted it.

After dinner that night, Eragon found himself staying up late again, unable to sleep, knowing he was so close and yet the answers he sought were so far from him. Saphira suggested he get some sleep. As Eragon closed his eyes, feeling very warm and full, he thought _Very well, Vrael. I answer you. I wish to see the events from which you died. Will you show them to me, so I may understand this riddle you've put before me?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Unconquerable**

Ch. 10 Unconquerable

He could feel his heart racing while he flew through the night sky. Dragon wings beat ferociously, clawing at the sky, and the wind whipped through long white-blonde hair. _White Blonde? Long? That's not right._Some part of Eragon reasoned._My hair isn't white: it's brown. _

_Saphira and I answer you, Vrael. _Eragon said to the dream. A second later he did not fly the green dragon, but he sat on a dream-Saphira, and was just next to Vrael's green. He watched as Vrael, white blonde hair being blown about by the wind, clutched his hand to his side, observing what Eragon knew to be blood.

_That's the Spine. Look, that's the valley where Carvahall is. _He looked down and could see the small flickering lights of both towns. _This is far enough in the past that Carvahall still existed. _The Dragons veered southward, and flew hard and fast toward the mountain Utgard. Eragon was nervous echoing Vrael's nerves and his acute fear of what was behind them. Galbatorix on Shruikan. There was a moment where the dragon's wings fluttered oddly and a roar split the air. His green was in pain, it could not fly steady.

_The other dragon is over there, but I can't make out exactly what it looks like. Gray, maybe. Or a dull brown. _Saphira tells him, craning her neck. Eragon figured, they weren't supposed to know what the other dragon looked like, a shimmer was around it, protecting anyone from fully seeing him or his rider. Eragon didn't know how he knew that, until he realized that Vrael and his green were looking at him and Saphira.

As the great stone mountain Utgard approached, the Green-Dragon dropped into a dive, pulling out, dangerously close to the cliff side. There was much wing-shuffling as Saphira followed the dive. Vrael cast an eerie light on the cave and Eragon saw the second dragon move past them. He noticed that the cave was bigger in his dreams than it was in his waking life. The back wall, with its carving of Ellesmera, did not exist.

Vrael muttered something to second dragon's Rider, who was shorter than Eragon. They saw the flash of a pointed ear as Vrael passed over a bundle about the size of a watermelon. "Keep it safe. May the stars watch over you." Vrael murmured, pressing his palm to the other Elf-riders forehead. The other Rider gave a fierce nod and ran to the second dragon's side. Vrael stood before them, muttering an incantation. No. He was singing a spell. As Eragon watched, Vrael sang the existing wall from the rock, causing the mountain itself to rumble and roar. _Like a rockslide. _

Just as Vrael was about to finish his spell, his dragon's shriek pulled him from his work. Standing in the caves entrance was a cloaked figure, its blade already drawn. Eragon saw a flash of moonlight on black scales shoving the green into the air. The green fought mightily to get back to his Rider's side, but black Shruikan kept him from the landing.

"So. You run from me, Vrael?" Says the icily cold voice of Galbatorix, "The Great Leader of the Riders, is running away. Are you hoping to make it to your elven hidey-hole?" Eragon watches as Vrael is hit between the legs.

"Coward" Vrael sputters, clutching at his groin. Outside, Shruikan has dragged his tail spikes through the green dragons hip. Its back legs are useless, and only its wings are keeping it aloft. Vrael clutches at his heart, as his dragon is painfully wounded outside. "I do not run from you, Galbatorix. I may have lost this battle, but I have not lost the war. Already you have been outmaneuvered." Vrael voice is haggard with the pain, though it still carries the graceful lilt of the elves.

"No, Vrael. You die now." A horrid black-metal blade with a silver symbol etched into the metal above the hilt, flashes before his eyes. The metal edge pressed hard into Vrael's neck, and he can barely breathe. Vrael swallows and takes a breath as Galbatorix draws the blade back, to strike.

"ELHÀNA!" screamed Vrael, as the blade struck home. Eragon knew this was the point where he usually woke up, when Vrael's decapitated head struck the ground and the green dragon roared in misery outside.

_Keep dreaming, part of Vrael still exists with his dragon,_ Saphira said hurriedly in his mind. Eragon ran to the ledge where he saw the green send a mighty blow at black Shruikan and finally land, rather awkwardly on the ledge. He couldn't move his back legs, and only his upper body, and front claws moved him inside the cave. The green dragon's scales are quickly fading, no longer bright and glimmering in the moonlight. They are dull and it is obvious that the dragon dies. It keens, a high pitched shrieking sound, that reminds Eragon of a death knell. It knows.

Shruikan lands on the ledge, and shoves the green into the cave. "No, Shruikan. Leave him. He dies, no matter what you do. Let him wallow in misery." Galbatorix mounts Shruikan and the two fly into the sky, the green dragon still keening. It pulls itself deeper into the cave. Eragon and Saphira watch, helpless, as Vrael's green wraps itself around Vrael's prone form, gently putting his Rider's decapitated head back with the body.

Vrael's green watches the wall, with Ellesmera carved into it. The dragon stretches its nose forward, touching the wall. _Elhàna locked you, so too will it free you. _Saphira shivers at the deep rumble of the Vrael's dragon. Another roar splits the air inside the cave, but it does not come from Vrael's Green, but instead, from the wall. The wall shudders, as something makes contact with it, and two large dragon sized claw marks appear in the stone. The dragon on the other side struck the wall.

Finally laying its large head near the body of its Rider, Vrael's Green gives a last moan and shuts its eyes. With a sigh of exhaustion and pain, it lies still, finally dead. Eragon's eyes blur and when he blinks the tears away, he blinks his real eyes. He is well and truly crying. Saphira, beside him, has liquid silver tears drop from her eyes.

Awake, he stands up and leans on Saphira's neck, hugging her, wishing he could wrap his arms around her. She was his heart. Watching Vrael and his Dragon die, was sad. Horrible. Heart-wrenching. It's sorrow-filled moans and the extreme tenderness of the dying Dragon. It was cruel, to keep the Dragon from the Rider it loved, it was torture.

_Eragon, promise me we will not die like that. _Saphira said, nuzzling his side with her nose. He nodded fervently. _It will be very hard to live, knowing you are dead. I don't think I could take it. _

_I know now just how horrible it was for Brom. For every Rider who has ever lost their dragon and had to survive its death. I would even feel sorry for Galbatorix, sick and twisted as he is. _Eragon wraps his arms around Saphira's head, squeezing tightly in a hug. She has stopped crying and so has he. "I love you, Saphira." He whispers into her scales.

_I know, Eragon. I love you too, little one._ She envelops his mind in her deep love for him. They stood still for a while, Saphira's body keeping him warm, while his mind and heart kept hers safe. When Roran snorts in his sleep, turning over under his covers, Saphira and Eragon pull tenuously apart.

"Elhàna locked you, so too will it free you," Eragon repeated Vrael's dragon's words and looked at the wall. "I still don't know what it means, but I'm willing to give it a shot. You?" He jerks his head at the wall and Saphira gives him a grin. She stands quietly and, with her claws not making a single click on the hard stone floor of the cave, she walks over to the carving of Ellesmera. She places a claw against the wall.

Eragon walks over next to her, melding his mind and his magic with Saphira. He lays one hand on her side and the other on the wall. Together, Saphira speaking with her mind, and Eragon using his voice, they say loudly, "Elhàna!"

At first, nothing happens. But when they pull away, the scars in the stone shimmer with a silver light. As the light gets brighter, so that it is almost moon-bright, the wall begins to crack. Eragon and Saphira back up as the wall crumbles, the stone disappearing completely in some places, and in other places, turning into tiny pebbles. With a sound like a sigh, air escapes from the back chamber, and the wall falls completely in a cloud of dust and small pebbles.

Eragon coughs from the dust and Saphira sneezes, flame flickering dangerously around her nose as she sneezed. Eragon covers his nose, and waits for the dust to settle. He feels Katrina and Roran wake with a start.

"ERAGON!" yells Roran, seeing the cloud of dust, "Are you alright!?" Eragon coughs to let Roran know he's alive, and Saphira decides that the dust isn't settling fast enough. She uses her mind to tell them all to duck and, using her massive wings as a fan, blows the dust out the cave entrance. When he can finally see, Eragon is still shaking cave dust from his clothes and hair. Roran and Katrina, scowling that the dust will be inside all of their things now.

They look at the space of the now missing wall. Rather than the cave continuing outward and upward, the cave continues downward, into the belly of the mountain. There are no stairs, but there is a rocky incline, curling its way down the side of the room, stalactites forming every few feet. Katrina brings over a few torches and Eragon, Roran and Katrina climb down the incline. Saphira, since she's several times wider than the incline flutters carefully into the heart of the cave. When they are all on the floor, Eragon holds up his torch to look around.

"Saphira, a little light, if it's alright." Eragon says, and Saphira nods, sending a spiral of flame into the mountain. They look around. The doorway that was the cave wall is outlined in boulders, which Saphira moves into the center of the cave and heats them, so they give a steady magma-like glow. Katrina ooh's softly and then lifts her torch to look at the walls of this new cave.

"This is very exciting. It's like being the first person to discover a new and uncharted world." She says, holding her torch closer to a wall covered in moss and dust. "Eragon is there some myth the elves have about fish?" She asks, her hand passing just over a part of the wall.

"None that I know of. Why?" He said, looking over his shoulder. Roran had walked over to a pile of broken rocks and stalactites that had been thrown into large mound.

"It's just, this entire wall is carved in fish scales, all the way up until those there stalactites." She points to the line where carving ends. Saphira gives a roar.

_Those aren't fish scales! Those are dragon scales! That little incline you walked down was its tail! _Saphira looks hurriedly around the cave to the place where Roran is approaching. As he comes closer he gives a yell, and stumbles backwards.

"Ugh." Katrina mutters, walking backwards. "He's ugly. All brown and moss colored. Yuck." Her comment makes Saphira grumble that no Dragon is ugly, and that he is just dirty. "Well, I should hope he looks nicer when he's clean. But still, moss brown isn't a very pretty color. Not like blue or red." Katrina's comments are muttered under her breath, but Saphira still grumbles.

"I think I found the head." He backs up and points to the pile of "rocks" that he was approaching. Saphira walks over carefully. Eragon can't help but stare in awe. The Dragon's head was HUGE! Saphira, from the tip of her nose to the end of her tail, measured from the end of the Dragon's nose to about the middle of his shoulder. It was easily four or five times bigger than Saphira, bigger even than Glaedr, who was twice as big as Saphira.

_Eragon, come here quickly._ Saphira says tightly, pointing to a lump in the space where the Dragon's head, met its neck, right next to the life-vein. Eragon ran forward to see what she was pointing at. There, behind the cheek-plate, was a body.

"The Rider" he whispered, approaching carefully. _Be careful, you don't know what will happen if you touch them _Saphira cautioned him privately. Eragon knelt down on something soft that, upon closer examination, was the Rider's hair. It had grown, even in this…sleep? Paralysis? What to call this state of non-motion?

Gently, not touching the Rider's skin, he pulled the hair back, and observed the features that looked back at him. An Elf. Careful, he pushed a strand of dirty hair behind the elf's pointy ear. The features that lay in peaceful repose, were angular, like every elf's, but faintly echoed his own, somewhat stretched, look. The brows, arched carefully. The cheekbones were slightly wider-set and the eyes were a little bit deeper beneath the brows, but not in a way that was ugly. As though any elf could be ugly.

Dark circles were under the lashes, which were medium length but obscured any sight of the Rider's eyes. Skin was pale, sallow-looking, and ghostly, and looked like it had once been lightly olive colored. Eragon's eyes trail to the mouth. It was cracked and dry, but with a bow-shaped upper lip and a full bottom lip.

Katrina knelt down next to him. Eragon looked at her and then turned his gaze back to the Rider. Carefully examining the body, he noticed a pendant on a tarnished silver chain. The Yawe. This Rider had been one of the Vinr Alfakyn Fricaya, the Elf-friends.

He hadn't realized it at first, for the Rider was an elf, and after what was obviously a century of sleep, but the Rider was very skinny. But as Eragon reached for the pendant, he yelped in shock as he picked it up. He dropped it instantly.

"What is it?!" asked Roran, who was leaning over his shoulder. He sounded worried, and looked ready to haul Katrina and himself out of there at a seconds notice. Eragon looked closer at the Rider, and gently tugged downward on the hem of the Rider's tunic. Roran gave an exclamation of shock and Katrina tumbled backwards. Just barely visible because of the Rider's skinniness, was the source of Eragon's shock. The pendant rested between breasts, now more visible because of the way Eragon had tugged on the material: The Rider was a Woman.

"It wasn't forbidden, but the Rider's were almost never women." Eragon explained, more to steady himself, than to answer a specific question. "There were one or two elf women, like this one, when the Rider's were new. But the majority of Rider's were male." He steeled himself and looked at the sleeping elf-woman.

_Eragon, remember what Arya did when she was given that poison in Gil'ead? She put her body into a deep sleep, to slow the poison's path._Saphira looked at Eragon, the pupils of her blue eyes very wide in the poor light of the cave. _She said all elves can do that, just go into a coma-like sleep. Maybe that's what this elf-woman has done to herself and her dragon. Approach her mind, like you did Arya's. _

"Okay Saphira, but remember what happened when I reached for Arya's mind? I'll need some dragon muscle." He said, and Saphira melded her mind to his. Eragon reached carefully for the mind of the Elf-woman. He found her mind gone. Empty. _How odd? Now what Saphira?_

_Try the Dragon. You use my mind for muscle. She might just be using his as a sort of hiding place. _Saphira suggested and the two of them approached the Dragon's thoughts. They found their way blocked by an iron fortress. _Ekana fricaise, et un Shur'tugal, iet un Skulblaka. We are friends, a rider and dragon. _

A tendril of thought approached his mind, and he extended a bare tendril forward to the elf. Their thoughts met in a jarring clash, each struggling for control. Eventually with a mental shove, that almost knocked him backwards, her mind won out over his and Saphira's.

LISTEN CAREFULLY. I CANNOT HURT YOU IN THIS CURRENT STATE. TOUCH YOUR SHINING PALM TO YOUR DRAGONS SIDE, AND THEN DO THE SAME FOR ME. WHEN YOU ARE DONE, WITH YOUR FREE HAND, TOUCH THE VERY CENTER OF MY FOREHEAD. IT WILL NOT HURT ANY INVOLVED. VEL EINDRADHIN IET AI SHUR'TUGAL. UPON MY WORD AS A RIDER.

With those words she drew back quickly into her dragon's mind. Eragon sent a thought to Saphira and she encouraged him to go forward. Eragon found the Rider's hands in her lap and, with some difficulty keeping it in place, placed the one with the Gedwey Ignasia onto the dragon's neck. He took off his gloves, and placed his silver palm to Saphira's nose. Then reached a finger for the elf's forehead.

At first, he felt nothing, but as the connection was made, a shock almost like an electric current passed through Saphira and into Eragon through his scar, and then through Eragon into the elf-woman. She arched her back, her eyes flying open, revealing eyes that were a deep ever-green color. As the current passed through her and into the dragon, sparks ran over the dragon's scales like sheet lightning. When the woman's eyes fluttered closed, Eragon took his finger away.

Her chest rises and falls as she starts breathing, and when the Dragon starts to breathe, it brings up more little puffs of dust. Eragon backs up a bit, Saphira backing up with him. Katrina and Roran had moved back when they saw the sparks fly. The dragon's side twitches, and the elf woman curls her feet under her.

"Thank you," she croaks in a whisper. It seems talking is beyond her skills at this moment.

"Will you be alright? Can you get up?" Eragon says, still quite a distance away from the woman. He didn't want to be in their way when she and her dragon stood up.

_We have not used our bodies for many years. It will take a few hours for us to regain full feeling in our limbs. _The dragon speaks with his mind, which is easier than the elf using her voice.

"Well, you do that," says Roran, a bit grumpy. After that big of a display of power, it was a bit anticlimactic for them to still not be able to move. "I'm still a bit sleepy, so I'm going to take a nap until breakfast." He grabbed Katrina by the hand, and they climbed up the dragons tail back into the main cave.

"Come on," Eragon tells Saphira, giving her a push. "If you'd just woken up with a hundred years worth of dragon breath, you wouldn't want anyone within ten feet of you. Let's go." Spahira looks back with some curiosity, and she takes Eragon back up into the cave. Roran seems to be the only one willing to sleep, for Katrina has already stoked the fires again for breakfast and Eragon offers to help her.

Roran wakes after about two hours, and joins Eragon and Katrina for breakfast. Saphira is sitting with her eyes half-closed and her tail curled under her jaw, rather like a cat would. When movement issues from the back of the cave, she looks up quickly, turning to face the sound of the noise.

The dragon has managed to lift itself out of the chamber in which it had been sleeping for more than a century. It is monstrous in its size and covered with a thick layer of grime and dirt. It's scales are lighter with the morning light, but still too dirty to see their actual color. It passes by all of them, and walks out onto the ledge, absorbing the warm autumn sunshine. His rider is only a minute behind.

In one hand, she has a dagger of elfin make, in the other, is a century's worth of hair. She had cut it off at a point just above her elbow, and the rest trailed behind her, still clenched in her hand. She throws the hair in the fire, which causes an acrid plume of smoke to come up from the dirty hair. But it all is reduced to fine ash in less than a minute. Not looking at Eragon or Roran, she walks to her Dragon's side, and lets the sun wash over her.

They stand there for several minutes, and no one says anything. Eragon has a dragon's patience, and felt that if the woman did not want to speak, he would not rush her. Roran appeared relatively disinterested, and paid careful attention to his breakfast. Katrina had neither of their patience, and her curiosity was palpable, it was only a matter of time before she said something.

The Dragon stretched its wings, beating them up and down a few times, and then leaped into the sky. For not having used its muscles in over a century, it flew easily over the forest, pulling into a tight dive several times, and then disappearing over a rise. Eragon surmised it had gone to find something to eat.

The elf-woman turned around to face them, her eyes landing immediately on Eragon, observing his face, his hair, his build. If she had no qualms about staring so openly, neither did he. She was tall, and to Eragon's minds eye, he could see that she had been heavier, and much more muscular. She had lost some of her vitality while she had slept for over a hundred years. Her features were pale and drawn. He could tell that, underneath the grime and underneath a century worth of not eating anything, she had once been very beautiful. Not nearly as fair as Arya, nor as striking as Nasuada, but very pretty.

_I think she may have even been prettier than Arya. _Saphira says privately into his mind, listening on his observations. _Arya's face is long and horselike. Rather expressionless. On most days, I would say she reminded me of dinner. This woman has a hunter's face, slightly heart-shaped. See how her cheekbones are wider, and her jaw stronger? Yes. Much prettier than Arya. _

Eragon was a bit surprised at Saphira's musings. He'd always thought that Saphira liked Arya, but figured that she was just expressing her opinion. Eragon did take notice of the 'hunter's face' of the woman, and noticed the almost feline grace of it. Her eyes were indeed a deep green, and were probably the only part of the woman which sparkled with life, while the rest of her looked pale, dirty, and half-dead.

Katrina could no longer contain herself, "Good morning!" she squeaked excitedly. "Are you hungry? We have some bacon and fried mushrooms, and there are some traveling biscuits." The elf turned her green eyed gaze on Katrina who shut her mouth immediately. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize." Said the elf-woman. Her voice rasped from the lack of use, and Eragon heard a low cool alto. "Speak slower, my mind still has cobwebs." She smiled in a gentle way, and it reached her eyes, making them sparkle.

"Let me get some of that bread, and I think there's a clean bowl you can eat from," Katrina says, bustling around. The elf woman nods, then turns her eyes to Roran and Eragon.

"I could use your help." She says, and points to the door, with its half-rotted wood. "Open that, please." Eragon looks at the door and shrugs. He stands up and lays a hand on the wood.

"JIERDA!" he says with some force, and the door shatters. "Better?" he asks the elf woman. And she nods with a smile.

She taps Katrina, and whispers something in her ear. Katrina nods as she listens, and adds an enthusiastic "Of course!" and looks around in her belongings, pulling out several items, including a tunic of Eragon's, leggings and a pair of simple slippers from Katrina (which Eragon figured she'd kept because they were just too pretty to pass up), and some soap. Katrina went with the elf, up the stairs which lead to the tower. Eragon stood up and followed them.

The elf walked into the tower and, sidestepping piles of stone, walked into a room, in which the only fixture was a water pump. Underneath the pump was a square hole about as wide and as deep as his saddle for Saphira. The elf knelt and pulled the plug from the hole. Than with a tired look, tried out the water pump. The clanking sound told her there was no water in the pump.

Eragon placed a hand on her shoulder, "Is there ground water under the mountain?" He asked gently, removing her hand from the pump's handle. He realized just how dirty she was, and pulled his hand away. No wonder she'd gone up here first, she wanted a bath before she indulged in breakfast.

"There was a well. It held the water for this pump." She explains, and Eragon feels around with his magic. There is indeed a well, and there is water in the well, but no pressure to bring the water up the pipe.

"Reisr du Adurna," he says to the water and it fills the pipe, flowing upwards. He motions at the handle and the elf woman pumps it again, letting the dirt of ages past, be washed away with the water coming from the pump. "If you need anything from me, just give a shout." He says, and leaves the two women there. When he returns to breakfast, he leans backwards onto Saphira and gives a tired sigh.

"So, what's her name?" asks Roran, looking up at Eragon. Eragon shrugged. "You didn't ask?" Eragon shook his head.

"When she wants to tell us, she will." He watches the world outside the cave, as the sun gets higher and higher into the sky. The other Dragon lands with several very large, dead, goats in his claws and rumbles a warning as he drops them inside the cave, and takes off again. Eragon watches the goats, and sees that none of them are bleeding, though they all have horrible gashes from the dragon's claws.

"Do you think she has magic?" Roran asked, interested to see what this woman could do.

"It's likely, that her magic is what has kept them 'asleep' for all these years." Eragon says with a shrug. "You heard her; she's still getting the cobwebs out."

"Talk about beauty sleep." Roran chuckles, looking out on the ledge. "That's a lot of meat."

_He's a lot of dragon, if you didn't notice. _Saphira suggests simply, recalling the male dragon's immense size. At easily four times her size, the other dragon made Saphira look puny.

"Are we going to stay here while she gets better? You have to return to the dwarves soon." Roran asks, craning his neck as he hears the dragon let loose a loud roar in the distance.

Eragon is quiet for a minute, "Probably not. She'll have to remember on the fly." Eragon thought about how he had to learn everything while he and Brom were traveling. This woman looked like she had been a rider for a while before she was entombed. She wouldn't have to learn much, simply remember how to do things.

The dragon comes back a second time and he has two very large sturgeon, each about the size of Roran, caught right out of the Anora river. He does not place the sturgeon in his pile of goats, but instead places them reverently in front of Saphira, who is surprised but pleased with his gesture. The Dragon turns to his goats, and starts to eat, meticulously taking the goat apart before lightly blowing fire at it, and then swallowing the partially cooked goat meat.

Katrina comes back down the stairs with a pile of wet laundry, some belongs to the elf, but some is also theirs, which she places on some rocks on the ledge, so they can dry. The Rider's boots and socks also get a place in the sun to dry. Katrina looks uncomfortable for a moment when Eragon helps her set out some of the clothes. Eragon bids the leather on the boots to dry, since they technically shouldn't dry in the sun.

"Something wrong, Katrina?" asks Roran, noticing Katrina's discomfort, like a good husband to be should. She looks up and an embarrassed flush passes over her cheeks. Eragon feels for her thoughts and puts a finger on what is bothering Katrina. Elves had no body hair, and upstairs, he assumed, the elf had stripped to bathe.

"All elves look like that, Katrina. Male or female. My master with the elves was the same." Eragon says carefully, and Katrina gives a relieved sigh. "Did she say anything to you?" Eragon asks, and Katrina shakes her head ruefully. "That's okay."

The only sound now is from the dragon who grunts happily while he eats. The elf returns, clean, but still pale and skinny. Her hair, which he couldn't really tell the color of when it was dirty, is a simple brown, a shade lighter than Eragon's own and, like an elf's, it is perfectly straight. For all she is wearing rather mismatched clothing, including Eragon's overlarge tunic, she looks good. Her hips sway in a near feline way as she walks with long, steady, and perfectly balanced strides towards her dragon.

She brings out her knife, which Eragon had noticed earlier, and cuts a choice piece of meat from one of the dragon's breakfast goats. She places the meat on the skillet while she digs into the bowl of mushrooms, bacon, and the biscuit. Eragon watched her eat, and something irked him.

_I know what's irking you._ Teases Saphira, privately. He observes the woman some more, but still can't put his finger on it. _Want a hint? Look at what she is eating. _Eragon looks.

_Dwarf Gods! Saphira, that's it! She's an elf, but she's eating meat! _Eragon looks directly at Saphira who has a smug smile on. _Now I am even more interested in finding out something more about her. _

Saphira snorts in a way that say, 'obviously!' and then she turns her gaze again on the woman. _I told you she reminded me of a hunter._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Edoc'sil**

When the elf had finished eating (and she ate a considerable amount) she leaned back with a sigh. The dragon had also finished eating, and Eragon was feeling everyone's deep interest in the name of this fair elf woman.

"Svit-kona" Eragon said, throwing his voice so that the entire group could hear him. "Permit me to introduce myself?" He wasn't really asking her permission, but she nodded in a way that told him, it was okay to talk now. "My name is Eragon Shadeslayer, Dragonrider to Saphira Bjartskular. Atra esternì ono thelduin." He placed his fingers to his lips.

"Mor'ran lìfa unin hjarta onr," she responded placing her fingers to her lips. "It is an honor to meet you Eragon Shadeslayer, and you, Saphira Brightscales." Eragon noticed that, although she had no problem speaking in elf, she had translated Saphira's last name to the human. "My name is Raya, daughter of Teodar Tharandurìn, Rider to Tunivor Diamondhide, and the last apprentice of Lord Vrael."

_Diamondhide? Your mother was? _Saphira interrupts almost as soon as Raya is finished talking. Eragon is about to chastise her, because he wanted to know more about Raya's ties, but realized that for a dragon, Saphira's question must be a valid one.

_Opalia, the Fierce,_Replies the dragon named Tunivor. _Though, it is not hard to see you are Vervada's daughter. Her strength was only matched by the color of her scales. It is obvious, you have inherited both._Tunivor's compliment makes Saphira smile inwardly and only Eragon notices it.

_Forgive me, but I still cannot see how you are called Diamondhide? Though Opalia's fierceness is evident in your hunting prowess. _Saphira returned the compliment because it was polite of a Rider's Dragon to do so, not because Dragon's as a race, were inherently polite.

_Allow me to show you, _the male dragon—Tunivor—snorted, a flame tickling his nostrils. He took a final bite of goat and with an almighty roar, launched himself from the cliff. Saphira stood up and walked onto the ledge, where she was quickly joined by Eragon, Katrina and Roran. She was watching as he flew higher and higher into the sky. He was not far away, just very high up. Raya leaned lazily against a wall as her dragon gained height.

When he was but a speck, he dove downward in a tight spiral, falling in a highly controlled maneuver. As the Spiral became tighter, than male dragon opened his maw and spewed a great gulf of white hot flame. The flame tickled around the dragon, not burning him, and he kept the flame going as he spiraled past them. Pulling out of his tight dive and flapping over to the Anora River. From what Eragon could see, the dragon had burned off the dirt and moss and was now washing off the fine gray ash from his scales.

When he returned to the ledge Eragon felt Saphira's sharp intake of breath and every thought that flew through her mind. After the fire spiral, and the washing in the Anora River, Tunivor's hide glittered like thousands of perfect diamonds, the water causing his scales to catch the light in a way that made him look, if possible even more glorious.

Like Bid'Daum, the first dragon ever paired to a Rider, Tunivor was a pure and brilliant white. As the others moved back into the cave, light refracted through his scales, and other colors played across his hide and on the cave wall, like he was made of diamonds and opals. Eragon knew from Saphira's mind that White, is the noblest of colors for a dragon, not only because of the First Dragon and Rider pair, but because, the White Dragon could claim every color (save for black) in their magnificent hide.

Tunivor, feeling the attention he was getting, flared his wings wide on the ledge, lifting them up above his head, fluttering them in a way that reminded Eragon, just slightly of the way a peacock flared his tail. Pearl white wings showed veins of pink and blue, where the blood flowed. He arched his neck, displaying his man-sized neck-spikes and stretched his claws out in front of him. Eragon could barely breathe at the magnificence of the gigantic White Dragon.

With a delicacy that would be impossible for anything else his size, Tunivor folded his wings, collected himself, and walked back to his place in the cave._You should eat those sturgeon, _he rumbles in a way that is very male, _they look like a lot, but are just enough for one your size. _Saphira nods and takes a bite of the fish. In no time the fish are non-existent and the White Dragon looks very pleased with himself.

_My sincerest apologies, Diamondhide. I should have known that a son of Opalia would wear the regal hide of white. _Eragon is surprised that Saphira feels it necessary to apologize, being as she usually believes herself right about everything.

_No apologies necessary, Brightscales. I have not seen a dragon in many years, and the last I saw was male. Your beauty has reminded me that I too have the pride of a dragon. _Tunivor's comment makes his Rider's eyebrow twitch. When Eragon looks at Saphira, he turns his laugh into a cough: if she could have blushed, Saphira would have been as red as Thorn.

Tunivor looks ready to say more, but his Rider, Raya, butts in. "If you say one more thing to her, she will no longer be blue. Eragon, tell me, what year is it? What has happened since the death of Vrael?" Raya sits down on Tunivor's foreleg, and listens.

Eragon explains that "it is a little over a hundred years since Vrael fell." At that simple sentence, Raya's face blanches again, pain behind her interesting green eyes.

"How did Vrael die? Galbatorix killed him, but do you know specifics?" Raya asks, closing her eyes as she listens to the news Eragon must give her.

He explains what the story is, and how things happened in his dreams. "Galbatorix fought dirty, hitting Vrael between the legs. Vrael seemed to understand that he would die, and in my dreams, his last words are…"

"Wait. What do your dreams have anything to do with Vrael?" asks Raya, confused. Her confusion turns to intrigue as Eragon explains that it was this dream of Vrael that brought him to the mountain Utgard.

"After Vrael said that word, 'Elhàna' Galbatorix chopped off his head, and left the dragon here to die in misery" Eragon explained a bit more of his dream, the Dragon's last words, and how it had sparked him and Saphira to try and open that wall.

_Mithravìl. That is, _Tunivor says to the group at large, he shakes his head, _no, that was the name of Vrael's Dragon. Mithravìl Valesong. _Tunivor rumbles deeply and the stones at his side skitter on the floor,_Forever may your spirit soar._ Saphira adds her own rumble to mourn the passing of the dragon who had, in Eragon's mind, died unnamed.

"Both Mithravìl's and Vrael's dying words were 'Elhàna' what does that mean?" Asks Eragon, hoping that finally one of the riddles of his life would be solved.

"That's hard to say. The true meaning of the word has long since been forgotten, even by the elves." Raya explained carefully, but Eragon's heart fell a bit. The word's meaning was unknown and forgotten. "But it was used for centuries by spell weavers to 'close' a spell. When the elves found out that you technically didn't need the word, they dropped it from their spell weaving. It stuck around with the Rider's, after Anurin ceded the Riders from elf control. They used it ever-after. What happened after Vrael and his dragon died?"

"We don't know. My dream stops there." Eragon explained, sorry he couldn't tell her more. "Historically, that was the point where Galbatorix named himself Emperor over all Alagaesia, and he and the thirteen Forsworn began their rampage to rid the world of the Rider's of old." While he talked, Eragon noticed that Raya fiddled with a pebble. Ah, the pebble exercises.

"Wait a moment. Someone came for Vrael, else his dragon's bones would still be here. Why did none open the cave before now? Before you?" Her voice, no longer rasping from non-use, showed to be a cool alto, with little of the lilt of the elves. She lifted the pebble with a muttered _Stenr Reisa. _

"Again, we don't know. It's possible no one knew the magic word to set you free. Or they just didn't know you were there." As soon as Eragon said it, he felt horrible. Raya's face fell, sad that she had literally been forgotten for over a hundred years. Still, it irked him that no one would remember that Vrael had an apprentice, and that his apprentice rode a White Dragon. Did they think she had simply died somewhere in the Spine?

"I'm sure your family will be happy to know your alive" said Katrina gently, her eyes hopeful. Raya shook her head sadly. She moved the pebble around in a circle, making it do little figure eights in the air.

"The House of Tharandurìn has slowly been dying out. There will be few, if any, left" Raya said quietly. "Tell me of the elves. Has Evandar withdrawn his forces, or do they make headway against Galbatorix? How many of the Forsworn have they killed?"

"Well, the Varden, with the help of Brom, have managed to exterminate all the Forsworn." Eragon said, sharing a look with Roran, to tell him not to add anything. "But, Evandar died soon after Vrael, his mate Islanzadì rules over the elves now. And the fight against Galbatorix has only recently gotten more heated. They were waiting for Saphira's egg to hatch."

"Brom? Not Morzan's apprentice? Well, it's good that he has managed to do something more, especially after the death of his Saphira. How is he?" Raya asks, politely. It seems she knew of Brom, though did not know him personally.

"Dead as well, helping me fight the Ra'zac." Eragon explained. _My goodness,_he thought to Saphira, _I'll need to explain the entire history of Alagaesia since the fall of Vrael, for anything to get across._

"Tell me those monsters are dead." Raya said, some disgust that the Ra'zac still lived. Eragon explained briefly that they had killed two young and the two eldest, though the 'Ra'zac' still lived. Raya swore a round and bloody oath in dwarf, then apologized profusely.

_Maybe share your memories and knowledge? _Suggested Saphira.

_Nay, you remember what Arya said. That's considered Taboo, and wrong. _He points out to her. He returns his attention to Raya.

"Not to keep you in the dark, but for me to explain things to you, I'd have to give you a relatively broad history of Alagaesia, since Vrael's fall. And I hope you don't mind, but now seems like a rather odd time for a history lesson. Can we save the lesson for a later date?" Eragon says, rather abashed that he has to resort to this, but he really wants to question her, not the other way around. Raya looks at him for a moment, but then nods.

"Saphira can tell Tunivor as we fly." She says with some finality. "I'll pick it up from him. I do have one question that you must answer: how many Rider pairs exist today?" She is making the pebble spin in place and Eragon is surprised at how much control she has on her magic. When he had started, he couldn't do much, and she had just woken up and she was already getting this much control on her magic. _She's an elf. They will always be physically and magically more powerful than any human, even at their weakest. _He repeated to himself.

"Galbatorix and Shruikan" says Roran, spitting the words out angrily.

_They don't count. The relationship between the two of them is a perverse bastardization of a true Dragon and Rider relationship, _Says Tunivor with equal anger and venom. _Next?_

_Eragon and Myself._Says Saphira, looking at Eragon fondly. Eragon smiles at her.

"Murtagh, Son of Morzan, and the Red Dragon, Thorn. They are enslaved to Galbatorix, for he knows their true names." Eragon says, with some anger and frustration. Raya seems to ignore the fact that Murtagh is a son of Morzan.

"He holds them by their true names? That's it? But Murtagh does not support Galbatorix's cause?" Asks Raya and Eragon tells her that Murtagh hates Galbatorix. "Well, then that's not so bad. It could be worse. Any others?"

Eragon shares a look with Saphira. Technically, by agreement with Islanzadì, he was not supposed to talk about Glaedr and Oromis. Oromis. In his goodbye, Oromis had said he was the last scion of the House of Tharandurìn. He guessed, if Raya was from the same house, than she would know of Oromis as some uncle, and technically would know of him as a Rider as well. He wouldn't be breaking his word to the elves.

"Oromis" Eragon says with some trepidation. "And the Golden One." He had been expecting confusion, or even general recognition from Raya or Tunivor. But when Eragon had said Oromis's name, Tunivor had snorted and Raya started to laugh.

_What is so funny? Though they cannot fight anymore, they are teachers. They are our teachers. _Saphira sounded very cross.

_Ah! Such rich Irony! The Wayward Dragon lives on! _Tunivor could not contain his amusement and gave a grrrrt sound that Eragon could only assume was laughter. _How deliciously amusing. _

_Wayward? What is this? Is he not a Dragon-true? _Saphira sounded as irked as Eragon felt, she turned her blue gaze to Raya, who was still laughing with some inside joke. _I believe he managed to survive Galbatorix's extermination of the Rider's when other's fell. Explain. _

"You are right Saphira, he did survive the extermination. Though I don't think Galbatorix was that worried about Glaedr the Golden." Raya tried to gain some composure again. "Glaedr the Golden's shame was known to almost every dragonrider at the time. He is no threat to the future Galbatorix wishes to control."

_His shame? What shame? How can any Dragon, especially the Gold Dragon, be shameful?_Saphira sounds indignant, but Eragon can feel her worry that she might have been tainted by this very shame.

_The Gold Dragon, for all his hunting and fighting prowess, has not once risen to mate._Tunivor, unlike his Rider, cannot help but control his mirth._Does that help?_

_Not at all. What does his progeny, or lack thereof, have anything to do with him being shamed, as a Dragon? _Saphira is frustrated and rather confused with the cavalier attitude of Tunivor and Raya.

_Pay careful attention to my words, O' Sapphire colored Daughter of Vervada. Glaedr the Golden __chose__ not to rise to mate: ever. It is not that he can't it is that he won't. For the flight brings him no joy. For his carnal eye is not caught by fierce flying beauties such as your-self. _Tunivor was speaking sideways, because he didn't want to outright decry Glaedr's odd behavior.

Eragon thought he might understand what Tunivor was trying to say. Privately, he projected his idea in to Saphira's mind. She did not like it. The thought that Glaedr the Golden chose not to mate, because he would never be attracted _in that way _to a Dragon-female, was impossible and an insult to his person.

_Surely, not. He's a dragon. _Saphira's voice croaked her worry as she thought quickly of specific situations, especially the fight she had with him. Eragon felt her pain, and felt Saphira block her thoughts.

"It was unkind to laugh at him," Raya says realizing that Saphira is in emotional turmoil, and she punches Tunivor's side. "I apologize for Tunivor and myself: I am sure they are both fine teachers, and we had no intention of insulting your teachers." Tunivor finally manages to get himself back under control.

_Blue-one, Glaedr the Golden has been called the Wayward One for years. No insult was meant. It just seemed a horribly ironic twist of fate. I apologize._Tunivor has noticed that Saphira's eyes are distant and he tries to look at her better. She won't look at him.

Eragon meanwhile, looks at Roran, who is rather dumbfounded that there is, in fact, another rider in existence. Katrina is also surprised. He sends them both the thought that they are not to mention the existence of Glaedr and Oromis to anyone, ever. Nor should they let on that they know. They both comply.

_Your words explain much. _Saphira says sadly, finally resigning herself. Raya looks at Eragon, and he sees the question in her eyes. Eragon nods, and Raya looks immediately at Tunivor, who looks deeply angered at that point.

_It explains nothing, _grumbles Tunivor, _Fate would not be so cruel as to hand you the choice of Shruikan the Perverse, Thorn the Slave, or Glaedr the Old. _At Tunivor's words, Saphira's head shoots up and she glares at him. _And yes I say old. For he was old a century ago. He is only older now. You do not deserve such meager pickings, Sapphire-hide. Rejoice in your youth, Brightscales. _Unexpectedly, Tunivor snakes his head over the fire and touches Saphira's side with his nose. She looks at him, confused, and both Eragon and Raya are swamped by the emotions playing out between their dragons.

Uncomfortable, Eragon clears his throat. "I know it's a lot to ask, but are you up for some flying? We need some fresh food, and we can't find that in a cave." Raya nods, agreeing. She volunteers herself and Katrina to fly down on Tunivor, to look for food and firewood, for one more night. Eragon exhales and the two women go down on the white dragon. Katrina had decided to take Lunch, the crow, with them. Raya had stared at the animal, but found it amusing.

_Well, that was interesting. _Eragon says to Saphira, as Roran goes upstairs to find the bathing room, so he can wash his face.

_Yes, well, _She starts to explain, but jerks her head downwards. She walks hurriedly onto the ledge and looks down, turning her head sideways to hear better.

As though to give her something to hear, Lunch comes cawing up the side of the mountain. He was panicking, cawing frantically. _Horned-people attack white-lizard and Fire-Hair and Pointy-Ears. Head-Voice come quick. Quick quick._ He dove flew over to a part of the forest, diving down as Katrina screamed to confirm his words.

Eragon bellows for Roran to hurry back down, and get his hammers. "Saphira, where's the dwarf blade?" Eragon wonders, turning his pack inside out. He can't find it? Did he move it into a different bag? Maybe it was in One of Roran's bags. Katrina's screaming was combined with the angry roar of a Dragon and a chorus of wicked laughing cackles.

_Roran's bags are over by the wall with the tree carving, _Saphira points at them with her nose. As the words tumble from her mind, Solembum's words echo in his thoughts.

'_When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree.'_ Eragon ran to the wall, placed his hand over the Menoa tree's roots and yelled, "JIERDA!" The stone shattered, just as Roran hurtled down the stairs. Eragon saw a hilt, rapped in cloths and, not caring about the blade, ran to Saphira's side, leaping into his place on her back, even though there was no saddle. He hauled Roran up just as Saphira threw herself from the ledge.

She flew over the forest, and pointed out the spot where Tunivor's white hide contrasted the brown trees of the forest. Diving, she landed with a thud in front of a pack of creatures that looked like a cross between an Urgal and a human.

Not thinking, Eragon drew the blade, grateful only that it was sharp and whole, and not caring what it looked like, he hurled himself at the creatures which had surrounded Raya, who only had her dagger. She was certainly doing a decent bit of damage with just a dagger. Eragon sliced left and right, stabbing, cutting, chopping at the creatures if he had to.

_If you get the chance,_ Saphira growled in his mind, _try for their minds. A few well placed death words, if you catch my meaning. _She swung her tail viciously at two of the monsters, impaling one with her dangerously sharp spikes. Another she caught under her claws.

"Distracted," he muttered to Saphira, as he made a double crescent catching one creatures head, and then another. Raya ducked, rolling the creature, with a hook, grab and toss maneuver. As the creature lay dazed on the ground, she stabbed it with her dagger.

The things really were ugly, with pig-like snouts and short stubby horns and tusks, they weren't nearly the fighters Urgals or Kull were, but they weren't human and they had some weird animal like ferocity, which was hard to squash easily.

Roran gave an all might bellow, smashing his hammers, spikes and all into two of the creatures skulls. Katrina was whacking at the darned things with a very big stick. Roran was moving through the creatures, mainly trying to get to Katrina. Eragon struck the last one around Raya and turned his attention to the battle at large. Tunivor, it seemed, had been swarmed by them. Saphira swiped at another set with her tail, taking out a handful. Raya gave a fierce, _Ayi! Yi! Yi! _And ran forward to protect her dragon. Eragon moved forward as well, cutting through three, just to get into the vicinity of the White Dragon.

"Anyone have any clue what are these things!" Roran called out to the group in general, though he didn't really expect anyone to answer him. Since neither Eragon nor Katrina had ever seen a creatures of the like.

"Wraith's" grunted Raya, smashing two of them together, heads first. Tunivor snapped another between his jaws. Eragon moved on the set separating Roran from Katrina, his new blade cutting through skin and sinew like it was butter. The last one in his way was more ornery than the first two. He attacked with a move that was simply too fast for anything other than an elf to react to. It dropped, shock still written into its face.

Seeing their comrades were falling like flies the group that had run at Tunivor scattered. Tunivor caught one beneath his claws, roaring his dominance over the creatures stupid enough to attempt hunting a dragon.

_Fool creature,_Tunivor rumbled, and roasted the animal between his claws then swallowed it whole. Eragon stared as the dragon ate the creature. In Eragon's mind, Urgals were not edible. So something that looked half-urgal shouldn't be edible either. Lunch had no problem picking at the creatures eyeball's, which grossed out Eragon, thoroughly._Crows are scavengers, they do things like eat from dead bodies. Still, it's really yucky. Doesn't he get enough food from us? Ugh. _

"What were those things? And where did they come from?" Katrina said carefully stepping over one of the creatures and getting her bag, which had mushrooms and what looked like wild onions or leeks (or both) in it.

"Those are wraiths. And before I went into a deep sleep, those little monsters were almost extinct. They live deep in the Spine, so it's odd to see them so far out towards Utgard." She wiped blood off her hand dagger, and started picking up the sticks that had been dropped when the wraiths attacked. Eragon helped her, tying up a bundle of sticks and attaching them to Saphira. "I'm surprised there are this many. Some people used to say that it wasn't Urgals that attacked Galbatorix and his first dragon in the Spine, but wraiths. They look like Urgals."

"Are they like Urgals?" asked Eragon, who knew his fair share about Urgals, especially after having fought with Kull by his side. Raya shook her head.

"Urgals are organized. They live in orderly groups, they have an understandable language. Their thoughts and memories are not instinctual, and they must be taught their skills. Wraiths are animals. And useless animals. Usually, they hunt deer, in a pack, using teeth and claws to fell the animal. On occasion they attack humans."

_But why attack a dragon, the fool things? Surely they don't think Tunivor is just a big deer? _Asks Saphira with a look of disgust as she pushes away several of the corpses aside. _That's what got the Elves in trouble in Du Fryn Skulblaka. _

"I never said they were smart," Raya said wryly, "Maybe they had some luck hunting a young dragon before, and thought they'd try their hand at a bigger one. Could you imagine the steaks that could come out of Tunivor?" Tunivor snorted his indignation of being referred to as a cut of meat, and suggested that Raya might not want to insult her ride to safety.

"Let's get back to the cave. I want to leave this area tomorrow." Eragon said wearily, climbing onto Saphira's back, a bundle of sticks in one hand and his new blade in the other. The two dragons lifted off. _Lunch, leave the horned people alone. You ate already. _The crow flew around, practically falling in the sky.

_Head-voice not fair. Eyes best part. _Lunch grumbled as he landed in front of Eragon. _Besides, Fire-hair always cook grass. Grass yuck. _

_Head-voice is named Eragon. And even Saphira, blue lizard, eats vegetables sometimes._Eragon chastised the crow, finding it very difficult NOT to talk like the blasted bird. _You want to eat eyes, go ahead. But Big-lizards no protect you while you eat. If horn-people come back for their dead, Lunch becomes a snack. _The bird took off with a happy caw, and Eragon shot it a dirty look.

"Eragon? Where did you get that sword?" Raya said loudly. Eragon presumed that she had asked it several times already, and he looked immediately at her.

"From under the roots of the Menoa Tree," he said quickly, as apology for ignoring her earlier requests at the question. He passed the sword to her and Raya squeaked, dropping it, sheath and all on the floor. With some reverence, she knelt down and picked up the blade, pulling it from its sheath.

The blade was a bright polished silver, so bright and clean, it was almost white. It had a gemlike shine to it, and Eragon watched as Raya undid the bindings on the hilt, showing an opal the size of an egg in the pommel, and two large diamonds in the cross-guard of the hilt. It was a stunning blade. Raya ran delicate elf fingers over a symbol etched in the metal, and he saw that her hand was shaking. "Il'hen" she whispered, stroking the blade.

"I'm rather well versed in Elf," Eragon said, standing to look at the sword over her shoulder. He saw the symbol, but did not recognize it. "What is Il'hen?"

"There are many words that mean 'hope' in Elf. But 'hope' is drawn with several symbols." She looked at Eragon, as though looking for him to reaffirm this. He nodded to tell her he knew, and she continued. "If you want to say hope, with a single symbol, you use Il'hen. The name of this blade is Il'hen, Hope. It is the blade of Eragon."

"Technically, it's not mine. I just found it." He said pointing to the hole in the wall, but Raya shook her head, extending the blade to him. "It's a white blade, it will look better with Tunivor."

"You misunderstood me." Raya said, holding the blade out to him again, "When I say this is the blade of Eragon, I mean the blade of the First Eragon. It has long been believed that this blade was destroyed. Utgard is as old as the Riders, it is very likely that this blade has been hidden here for centuries, awaiting you." Eragon can feel his mouth drop in awe as he looks at the blade, "I cannot wield a blade that was carried by your namesake, and which has shed blood for you. The rules of swords are clear. This blade is yours."

Eragon takes it, looking at the symbol etched centuries ago into the metal. Long after the first Eragon had died, his blade was perfect, ever-sharp, and flawless as the day it was made. "Hope, It fits for him." He put the blade in its sheath.

"And you," Raya says, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Vrael and I were prepared for this. I have blade, though it too does not match my dragon. It is Dorev, Strength, the blade of Anurin, who was Vrael's predecessor." She walked into the back of the cave, and Eragon followed her, as they both made their way over rocks into the heart of what had been Raya's prison for a hundred years.

The cave was much bigger now that Tunivor had been moved out of it, and Eragon wondered how the mountain was still standing with this big a hole in it. Raya walked steadily to the place that had been obscured by Tunivor's head, and there was a meager pile of belongings.

A saddle unlike any he had ever seen, an unstrung elf bow with no arrows, and two swords, with sheaths, wrapped in cloth. Eragon wondered where the watermelon sized bundle had gone, for there was pitifully little there. A saddle bag looked like it had some clothes in it, and a weird cloak, which Raya said was for flying, though it looked too stiff and too thin to protect her from the wind. She shouldered her bag, tying both swords to her belt. Eragon grabbed the saddle and bow, and lifted them magically into the cave.

Raya grabbed a rag, dipped it in water, and wiped down the saddle. It was big, solid black, with heavy silver and gold inlay, and had one large round ring-like attachment on one end, and a chain and leather ring on the other end. There appeared to be a buckle on each ring, and the saddle had enough room for three people to be seated comfortably. There were leg straps, but otherwise, no way of getting the saddle to stay onto the dragon.

Feeling he should be helpful, Eragon wiped down the bow, giving Raya one of his spare strings. She had no arrows, though he found an empty quiver in her bag. He put the two together, and told himself to get arrows for her as soon as possible. Seeing Raya was still cleaning the saddle, Eragon looked to the two blades.

He unwrapped the first, taking off the rags which had kept the leather of the sheath from drying out. The first blade had a black sheath, and had the symbol for Strength etched into it. This was Dorev, Raya's blade. He pulled the sword, marveling at the smoothness at which it slipped from the sheath. It was like all Riders blades, ever-sharp, amazingly balanced, and as perfect as it had been the day it was forged.

The Metal had been magically dyed to match Anurin's dragon, and it was a deep blue-black, the color of the night sky. He realized what she had said earlier: this blade did not match the white Tunivor, it would have been more appropriate for Saphira. But Eragon believed that Dorev had chosen Raya, just as Il'hen had chosen Eragon. He returned Dorev to its sheath, picking up the next blade.

The sheath for this blade was olive colored, and was etched with a symbol that Eragon knew to stand for "Faith" though he didn't know its elf name. He pulled the blade out, and saw that it was a marvelous emerald green. "Was this Vrael's sword?" Eragon asked, flicking the blade when Raya looked up. She nodded with a sad smile.

"He gave you the blade, and faced Galbatorix unarmed?" Roran asked, coming over to watch. The sun was setting and since it set behind the mountain, the cave was already getting dark. Roran and Katrina had set up a fire and Katrina was making some noise with a pot, trying to get it to stay over the fire.

"Galbatorix would have stolen the blade and destroyed it, Vrael knew that. He gave Sol'rec," Raya said, and Eragon immediately remembered the name of the symbol for Faith, "He gave it to me, in the hopes that it could serve a next generation." Raya said quietly, returning to the saddle. Eragon thought she was being cryptic, but ignored the thought, and returned the blade to its sheath. She picked up the saddle, carrying it to Tunivor's side. Looking a bit dismayed, she motioned for the Dragon to help her. "You weren't this big a hundred years ago. How, in the name of all that is wise and good, did you grow without any food to fill that cavern you call a belly?"

She placed the saddle in the crook of Tunivor's neck, in the large gap between spikes. It sat awkwardly while Raya fiddled with the rings, finally getting the buckles open, she placed the solid ring around the base of the spine-spike and the leather and chain ring, she placed around the last neck spike in front. By having chain and leather ring in front, the saddle would stay on, attached primarily to the spine spike, but it would stay on without a harness going around the middle. The chain and leather gave more freedom of movement to the dragon's neck. The saddle suddenly made sense, for a dragon as big as Tunivor.

Once she had finished, Raya came down and picked up her saddle bags, light as they were, and packed her now-dry clothes, putting on her boots and returning the slippers to Katrina. She decided to keep the clothes that she was wearing, including Eragon's tunic. She also packed the second sword, and her odd flying cloak, which Eragon still didn't believe would protect her from the cold weather up in the air, she then placed the saddle-bag up on Tunivor's back.

"Although Therinsford is closer, Yazuac and Daret are in our path, so when we fly over, maybe we can land and get some more supplies for you," Eragon said carefully. Raya looked at him, her eyes examining him very carefully. "A bedroll, a good cloak to prevent against the wind, and some other general supplies." He suggested and she nodded. "Katrina and Roran are less identifiable and less suspicious looking than we are."

"Suspicious?" Raya said, looking at Eragon, who fingered one of his pointed ears. Raya reached a hand up to her own ears, seemingly surprised that they were so pointy. "Yes, that will be good. Thank you, Eragon."

Lunch flew into the cave, fluttered on top of the bags which were Eragons, and with a shrug of his black wings, he curled into a feather ball, and fell asleep. "Though, flying over Daret takes us farther away from Du Weldenvarden," Eragon said, going over to his things to fish out a map. He spread out the map which showed all of Alagaesia, from the Spine in the west, to the empty expanse of the Hadarac, to Du Weldenvarden in the North, and the Beor's and Surda in the south. Raya came over to look at the map.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Family and Fate**

The next morning, Eragon woke early. Lunch had flitted around his head, begging to go eat more eyeballs and grubs. Eragon told him to go, but that they were leaving when the sun was halfway to noon. Scratching his head and ruffling his brown hair, Eragon managed to haul himself out of his bed-roll.

He and Raya had argue bitterly the night before. He had wanted to fly to Ellesmera, so Raya could be formally reintroduced to the Queen and Master Oromis. In his travel plans, they would stop by Yazuac, then head northeast for Ellesmera, spend a few days there, then cut across the belly of the Hadarac for the Beor Mountains. Raya, for her part, said that she did wish to meet the Queen and Rider-Oromis, but did not want to spend a week in the presence of "that arrogant woman" or "that fusty old Rider." Eragon thought that her descriptions were more than a bit rude, and that she was being irrational.

After looking extensively at his map, Raya had thought it better to follow the rim of Du Weldenvarden, going around to the Beor's, and then following the Az Ragni to Farthen Dur. She though it was silly to waste a week in Ellesmera, then race to Farthen Dur, when they could fly at a comfortable pace, checking the edges of the Empire.

She and Eragon had argue for what seemed like hours until Saphira had suggested at least stopping in the elves border cities and sending message to Islanzadì. Raya and Eragon had both scowled at the compromise, but had eventually agreed that it was a fair idea. They would stop in Kirtan, spend the night there, and would send word to Ellesmera that they would also be stopping in Sìlthrim, and hoped that they could meet the Royal delegation there. While Eragon and Raya had argued, Roran and Katrina had gone off to sleep.

"Since we're awake, may I hear my history lesson now?" asked Raya, vehemently throwing a stick on the fire.

"No," said Eragon, "Killing wraith's has exhausted me. Tomorrow." He had placed a hand on her shoulder and an electric current with the force of a dragon rammed through him. He and Raya jerked apart violently.

"I will keep watch. Go to sleep, Eragon." It was the first sentence she'd spoken to him, in which she hadn't rasped. Her voice wasn't nearly as melodic as Arya's, nor did it have the musical lilt of the elves. Her voice was a cool and pleasant alto. He'd gone to bed, slightly grumpy that he'd been brash with her, and woken that morning just before daybreak.

Raya was seated on the ledge, looking out at the world. Eragon rubbed his face and stalked over to sit beside her. She didn't look at him, much less acknowledge in any way that he was there.

"Good morning," he grunted, still a bit drowsy form sleep. She didn't say anything. "Were you up all night?" He asked, knowing that she probably had been, letting Eragon sleep through the night.

"Yes," she whispered, looking misty eyes, "And it is a good morning." She inhaled the morning air deeply, and Eragon breathed in at the same time. It had an oddly smoky quality to it, and it smelled of wood. Understandable, since they were in a forest. The air was brisk and cold, filling every inch of his lungs.

"I take it, after a hundred year nap, you won't be sleeping much at night?" Eragon joked a bit and Raya chuckled.

"Not really. I'll pretend to sleep, to get back into the habit of resting my mind at night. But I don't think I'll be going into any more death-sleeps for a while." Raya looked behind her at Tunivor, who was wide awake as well, looking out the cave entrance, "Besides, I'm a ninny. I don't like sleeping alone, and Tunivor won't sleep for a few days."

They watched as the sun slowly climbed over the horizon, painting the forest red with it's brilliant colors. Red always made Eragon think of Zar'roc, Murtagh, Thorn, and his family. It made him think of family in general. "I only know of Oromis, but you said the house of Tharandurìn was an important house. Who were they?"

"It's not easy to be of my family's house. Tharandurín's very existence is rooted in shame." She started, her eyes going distant, as though she was walking backwards through the paths of memory. "Centuries ago, one of the Elfin Kings had taken a lover, though he already had a mate. Normally, that's not a problem, and few people cared. But both unions resulted in children. Male Children. One son, the legitimate son, was made the Prince. The other, though he couldn't lay claim to the throne, would not give way on the fact that he too was the son of a king. He was given his own house to appease him. The house of Tharandurín."

This fascinated Eragon. More often than not, the elves avoided messy situations, like scandalous affairs, and the way the mess was handled, intrigued him even more. Raya continued with her tale, "For centuries, they have been the leaders of the opposition in the council of lords. They would always argue counter to the wishes of the Ruler, simply for the sake of showing all possible arguments. But, as you have said, our house dies: Oromis is the last."

"Now you are," Eragon added, slightly pleased that he had figured out some elfin politics, which were difficult and tricky.

"No. I was not seen as fit to carry the family's name. I can claim Teodar Tharandurín as my father, but not the name of my family. The Bastard's Bastard. Worse even than Tharandurín himself." Raya's eyes went hard and her anger was palpable. He felt that there was some trickiness to her heritage, that made her disliked by the elves, or at least, mistrusted by them.

"Well, all the houses have been failing. Since the disappearance of the Dragons, fewer children are being born in the elves." Eragon explained what Oromis had told him about how the Blood-Oathaffected the elves and the humans. Raya listened attentively, nodding at times.

"You do realize, that you could tell me at least the basics of that history lesson now. Eragon, I must know what has happened. My time passed, and I must fit into this time. Please." Raya's eyes pleaded with him and he realized why it was necessary for her to learn what had happened in the past 100 years. For her, time had stopped when she had fallen asleep, and she still believed herself to live in a world where Galbatorix was a new threat, where Evandar was the brave king of the elves, and the Varden and Surda did not exist.

"Very well, but don't interrupt too much." Eragon explains, outlining the major events that had happened in Alagaesia since the fall of Vrael. Namely, he talked about the fall of Evandar, the deaths's of the Forswornd, and the making of the Varden. The capture of Saphira's egg, and the nearly 60 years it had gone unhatched. The capture of Arya by Durza, Eragon's finding of the Blue Egg, the deaths of Garrow, Brom, the Rescue of Arya, and the battle under Farthen Dur. He explained how Arya had helped him to destroy Durza, by distracting him.

"My goodness, this Arya woman gets into a lot of trouble," says Raya, snorting when Eragon mentions how much she's done to help them, especially after the death of Ajihad.

"She's an Elf" Eragon explains, pointing to Raya's necklace, "one of the Alfakyn Fricaya. Though Islanzadí was not happy when she took up the Yawe."

"Why would her majesty not like it? The yawe is a mark of Supreme loyalty to the elves. And this isn't mine, this is Vraels." Raya nudged the necklace, which was still prominently displayed.

"Arya is her only daughter," Eragon answers, what he isn't saying is that Arya is the daughter of the queen, that she is a princess. At first, Raya says nothing to this.

"That explains her complete incompetence" Raya sniffs, looking away from Eragon and into the distance. The sun is getting higher in the sky.

"She is not incompetent. She's a master with a sword and a wise ambassador. Gifted, magically and artistically." Eragon defends Arya, remembering her skill with both pen and sword. It was not fair of Raya to say such things, having never met Arya, though, as he thought about it, Arya did get into a lot of trouble.

"True Art is indistinguishable from Magic. If you can tell the difference, she is gifted at neither." Raya stands up abruptly, "I won't judge this cousin of mine until I have met her. Perhaps she is as wonderful as you say." _Cousin. _The word jolts through him, as he realizes that Raya is, in some extended way, Royalty. If Arya denies desire for the Crown, Raya could, if she wanted to, claim it by blood.

"She is." Eragon says hotly, his temper flaring at Raya's insult to the woman Eragon loves.

"Has she faults?" asks Raya, with a wicked smile.

"None."

"Then she isn't real. Real people have faults. And a real love acknowledges those faults. Pity. The elves never learn." Raya looks pleased with herself for a moment. "You are smitten with her. No wonder she has no faults."

"I am not smitten," Eragon grumbles. Why is it he and Raya only end up arguing with each other. Last night it was over travel plans, today it was over Arya. "And she does have a flaw: she is emotionally cold, and rather distant."

"All elves are like that. Boring prudes, with their thrice damned courtesy. Emotionally bland, pah! They write of anger and fear and love, yet none have ever felt any of those things. It's a small wonder the elves population is diminishing. They cannot know desire." Raya stalks into the cave, leaving Eragon still sitting on the ledge, fuming.

"You're an elf." He calls out to her retreating form, and she freezes. "You must have this same fault."

"I was not liked by most elves," she said over her shoulder. "I see myself as a Rider first, and than as a woman. And then, maybe, as an elf." Eragon was surprised at her list. Few people would have organized themselves that way.

"No need to be snippy," Eragon remarks, standing up. Some part of him got some vindictive pleasure in getting a reaction out of Raya. If he had talked this way to Arya, she'd have made some excuse to ignore him. But Raya reacted to him. He spoke, and Raya reacted.

"You started it." Raya climbed up Tunivor's leg, hiding behind his wingjoint. At that point, Eragon realized his error. He had brought up a topic that was rather upsetting for Raya: her family. And now, he was comparing her to Arya, the princess, the cousin who had been alive for the past century. It was unfair, since he barely knew anything about Raya, and Arya had admitted little to him.  
"I'm sorry for sniping at you," Eragon said, coming over to stand by Tunivor. A brave move on his part, being as Tunivor was as agitated as Raya was. "Won't you please come down? I haven't told you about the battle on the Burning Plain's yet, nor our amazing battle against the Ra'zac." He tried looking for her face behind Tunivor's wing.

"You're trying to appease me." She peeks her head out from behind Tunivor's wing, much in the same way a child would look out from behind its mother's skirt. "You know, that won't always work" She grumbles and comes down.

"But it's working now. I really am sorry. Come, let's start breakfast." He pulled her to the fireplace, still talking about the Burning Plain's Battle. That kept her happy with him while she cut up vegetables and he stoked the fire. When he explained about Murtagh's arrival, Raya looked distant. He didn't want to tell her everything Murtagh had said, but felt he had to get Raya to say something.

"Is there any way to save him? To free him?" Eragon asks, and Raya looks up immediately. Her eyes narrow and she focuses on him skeptically, wondering whether he was worthy enough to hear the answer. "He's held by his true name, though he has no love for Galbatorix."

"There is. But it is tricky." Raya says vaguely, gnawing on her cheek, while she thinks how to explain it to Eragon. "We are born with our true names, they are based on our knowledge of ourselves. To know that name, is to give yourself true power over yourself. To change it would require a drastic change in his knowledge of self. The spell involved makes it equally tricky. Very, very, few attempt it."

"Define drastic redefinition of self. What is drastic?" asks Eragon, wondering if maybe the event could be forced.

"Well, uncovering something unknown about his family. Or a radical change in thought. Like an elf seeing Guntera," explained Raya, and Eragon wondered if, when he had been told that Morzan might be his sire, if that had been the moment in his life when he could change his true name.

"Discovering a father or a brother? Drastic enough?" Supplied Eragon, and Raya shook her head.

"Brother isn't strong enough. But if you found out your father was a dragon-rider, or and elf, and you'd lived your entire life knowing he was another human, than that might just do it." Raya wasn't speaking to disconcert Eragon, but the idea that he could have changed his true name the day Murtagh told him that their sire was Morzan, shocked him.

"Or one of the Forsworn?" Eragon added with a weak chuckle. Raya nodded. "Murtagh knows he's the son of Morzan, but if he'd never known that, and it was a shock to him, he could have changed his name?"  
"The shock alone is not enough." Raya says, "Many people deny the truth to themselves, He must accept the new knowledge as truth, internalize it, and allow it to change his entire mindset on life. And then there is the spell." Eragon exhales loudly.

"Let me guess, there's a time limit on when he can do that spell?" Eragon asks and Raya nods with a wry smile.

"Afraid so. It must be done in the first day. If you can come to terms with a truth that will change your whole life, quickly, then you have a very complex spell to perform. And it must be started, practically on the spot."

"You would have to have the spell memorized?" Eragon says, realizing how immensely complicated the process was. No wonder so few attempted it. "Do you know this spell?"

"Not all of it. I know the first four parts, but the last bit is still a mystery to me. It involves speaking your original name, and letting it go. Since I don't know my own name, I could never apply the spell directly to myself." Raya hands over the chopped onions and mushrooms. Eragon puts them in a pan, letting the vegetables sizzle, while he pulls out traveling bread.

"But the spell could be found in the elven libraries?" He asks and Raya nods affirmatively. _She doesn't know her own true name? Didn't Brom say that all elves are born knowing that name?_

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to change your own true name?" Raya jiggled the vegetables in the pan so they wouldn't burn.

"No. I don't know my real one, so I have no reasonable cause to change it. Besides, the opportunity for change passed a while ago. How come you don't know your true name? Brom said all elves are born knowing them." Eragon immediately felt embarrassed for asking. True names were a personal business.

"I'm not an elf." She said with a smile. "I'm a Rider. It's safer for me that I don't know it." She pulled out some of the vegetables and poured them in a bowl for Eragon, than added bacon and some sausage, for the three of them which ate meat.

"You could have fooled me," Eragon laughed, digging into his breakfast with a fork. "Raya, I know you and I don't know each other very well, but I need you to promise me something."

"I'm listening." She says quietly, making a little more noise with the skillet, so they won't be overheard.

"If something goes wrong, i need you to keep Roran out of the clutches of Galbatorix, and not worry about me and Saphira." Eragon whispered it, but he knew her acute elf senses heard every word. She nodded.

"Easy enough to do. But, you must tell me why Galbatorix wants him in the first place?" Raya, pulled out a few plates, making a bit of noise, and looked over her shoulder towards Roran and Katrina, who were still asleep.

"At first I thought it was because of me," Eragon looked at his cousin, who had an arm wrapped around Katrina's waist. "But I've got reason to believe, he might want Roran for the last egg. The emerald egg." Raya looked up sharply at that.

"Now you have me interested. What makes you think Roran is the Rider meant for the last egg?" She scraped out some breakfast for Roran and Katrina, then filled a bowl for herself.

"He's related to the existing two Riders," Eragon said vaguely, "And don't Rider's usually come in families." Saphira stood up, with rather a lot of shuffling, and walked over, making enough noise to muffle their conversation.

"I see how he's related to you, but how is he related to Murtagh?" Raya placed the pan back over the fire, spilling some water so it sizzled on the surface of the pan.

"Same way he's related to me" Eragon looked down at his breakfast. He was taking a risk, telling Raya that he was a Son of Morzan.

"Your mother. You and this Murtagh character have the same mother." Raya said simply. That made Eragon look up. She didn't look disgusted or appalled to be talking to a son of Morzan. Rather, she'd jumped straight to his mother, Selena, who really was the link between Roran, Eragon, and Murtagh. Eragon nodded to affirm Raya's statement.

_You must admit, there is a poetic aspect to it. Don't you think so, Raya. _Said Tunivor, projecting his thoughts to Eragon, Saphira and Raya alone. Eragon mentally kicked himself. Why hadn't he thought to speak mind to mind?

_I wonder, what does this Murtagh fellow look like? _She asked Eragon, and Eragon sent her a mental image of Murtagh. _I see it, and there is a sort of symmetry. The three of you are built on the same lines. And I do not think that comes from Morzan. _

_Do you think Murtagh may be right? That the blood Galbatorix needs to hatch the last egg, is Roran's? _Eragon extended his mind out towards Roran and Katrina, feeling both of their minds waking at the smell of food. Raya nodded and Eragon felt part of his stomach sink.

_The wyrda, fate, is odd that way,_ said Tunivor, stretching with a yawn and going over to stick his neck out onto the ledge, sunning like a cat in the autumn warmth. _What makes your mother so special, Eragon? Are they the family of some deposed nobleman? Maybe the great-grandchildren of Riders? _

_I don't know. _Said Eragon, rubbing his head. The presence of four sets of thoughts was giving him a headache, and the minds of dragons were an immensely strong presence.

_Carvahall. _Said Saphira, her blue eyes, swirled in a way that Eragon had not ever seen before, then all of a sudden, they cleared. Saphira shook her head, _the town is in Palancar Valley. _

_Palancar. The valley of Kings. That is a possibility Brightscales. _Raya, patted Saphira on the nose and looked at Eragon. _Though an impossible one to tell. _

_It doesn't matter. I was born by Selena. But Garrow and his wife were my parents. _Eragon explained his thought process, the same one that had gone through his mind a million times since his conversation with Murtagh.

_Well, I must say, you are probably the only young man alive, who prays his mother WAS unfaithful, _Tunivor joked, prodding Eragon with his nose,_ from what I remember of Morzan, you look nothing like him. _That made Eragon feel slightly better.

_Do not fret, Eragon. Tunivor and I will watch Roran, until the last egg is returned to the true Riders. In the meantime, take heart: you don't have the abysmal family history that I do. _Raya exhaled loudly and looked at her breakfast, which had gone cold. She frowned. _This needs reheating. _

While Raya reheated hers and Roran's and Katrina's breakfast, Eragon stood up to go wake the sleeping pair, laying a cool hand on Katrina's shoulder. Katrina's eyes flew open, when she saw Eragon's face, she calmed. When she saw Raya was fiddling with the pan, she pulled the covers off and got up quickly. Roran was only a few moments behind her. Eragon sat down next to Raya again.

_I couldn't help but notice it, but you eat meat. I used to, but after living in Ellesmera, I had changed my mind, choosing the vegetarian fare. How come you eat it, though you are an elf? _Eragon asked Raya, still speaking mind to mind.

_How many times must I tell you? I'm a Rider. _Raya's eyes twinkled, and Eragon knew there was more to her past that she had not told him. More than her just being the daughter of the King's Cousin. _Meat will help bring me back up to fighting weight faster. In the past two days, I have eaten several times, and have already gained several pounds. My muscles are absorbing the protein in the meat as well as the mushrooms, much faster than if there were mushrooms alone. Magic helps a lot. _

_So, you usually eat vegetables? _Asked Eragon, observing Raya's frame from underneath his lashes. She didn't look half as sallow as she had the day before, her muscles were filling out, and her skin looked warmer. How much weight would she gain, from this breakfast?

_I eat what is available. When I am on my own, I eat vegetables and fruits because they are easier to harvest. I won't personally hunt animal game. But if Tunivor, or someone I am a guest of, offers me meat, I will not turn it away. But yes, my staple diet is mainly of vegetables. _Raya said simply, pulling out their reheated breakfast. Eragon reached into his bag, bringing up nuts and dried fruit. He offered them to Raya, who tossed some right into her breakfast.

_Saphira said you reminded her of a hunter, and yet, you will not hunt? _Eragon thought to Raya, as he placed some of the nuts into his own breakfast, than put the bag away.

_Well, that's very nice of her. I like to think of myself as a hunter of my enemies. But, when it comes to dinner, I take what is available, since I'm rather a lazy-bones when I'm not hunting my enemies. _Raya's mind laughed, and she dug into her breakfast, enjoying in the hot food.

_Rather like a cat. _Saphira said, talking mainly to Eragon. _Or a Dragon. Told you so, Eragon. _She stretched lazily, and stood up, going over to the cliff where there was more sunshine. Tunivor snapped at her as she walked past, and Saphira only flicked her tail at the white dragon.

Tunivor rumbled in a way that made Eragon's stomach drop. Both he and Raya stared at the interplay between their dragons. Tunivor's pupils widened and he lifted his head until it was at the same height as Saphira's. His jaw was open, but when she turned her blue gaze on him, for just a moment, Eragon's heart fluttered. Tunivor smiled a dragon-smile, and then clenched his jaw, making his jowls stand out. One was oddly bigger than the other, but Eragon was distracted by Tunivor's rumbling.

It was so deep, Roran and Katrina didn't hear it, though Eragon and Raya did. Saphira's answering rumble was equally as deep, and she averted her gaze from the white dragon. Raya looked frantic, and stood up sharply, nearly toppling her bowl to go stand next to Tunivor. Eragon caught the bowl before it hit the floor. _Saphira, whatever you're doing, stop it now. _Saphira looked over at Eragon, and then noticed Raya's frantic expression. She nodded that she would stop, and the rumbling between the two dragons stopped.

"I think it's time we got ready to leave," Eragon said aloud to the group. "This cave is making me antsy." Roran and Katrina nodded and Katrina took up the dishes, to go wash them and refill their water skins from the pump upstairs. Roran started by rolling up their bed rolls. Eragon exhaled, unsure why he had been so tense in the first place.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Yazuac to Kirtan**

Chapter 13: Yazuac and Kirtan

They ate breakfast quickly and, after ascertaining that Tunivor could fly with two people on his back, they finally took off. Tunivor carries Raya and Katrina, while Saphira flies Roran and Eragon. As they flew away, Eragon notices Raya looking over her shoulder to the tower, Edoc'sil and the mountain, Utgard.

Reaching for her mind, _Will you miss it? _He asks her, wondering if she had some modicum of safety in her prison. Raya's response is distant.

_Yes, for now I fly into the unknown into a world that has changed much, and a time that isn't my own. _So she was afraid. She could spend a week at Utgard, waiting to be up to full strength. She could choose to go back into her sleep. But she didn't. Raya had chosen to face the world, afraid of it, but ready to do what she must to make it better.

_But you are glad to be free? _Eragon asks, double-checking.

_More than you may realize. Dragonrider's must fly when Danger is in the sky! I may fear the world before me, but I know my duty to it, and to you. _Raya appears to be quoting a training phrase, and Eragon is a bit surprised that Raya feels she owes a duty to Eragon.

_To me? _He asks, surprised.

_You freed me, Eragon. I will help you as much as I can, to repay the debt I owe you. _

_You owe me and Saphira no debt, _replied Eragon, quickly. He didn't want to bind her to their cause if she couldn't support it with all her heart. _Fly freely, as our friends, and not because you are bound by duty. _

_Thank you, then we fly as your friends, _Raya was quiet for a while. _Eragon, you are nothing like Morzan, just so you know. _

_That gives me hope. Thank you my friend. _Eragon felt Raya smile and withdrew from her mind. He told Saphira to angle more south, rather than east, and Saphira stretched her wings towards Yazuac.

_It's hard to what she's doing. But I'm very glad she's coming with us. Tunivor is as big as Glaedr. Bigger! He could face Shruikan with ease. _Saphira looked behind her, taking in the looming form of the White Dragon.

_Here's hoping, _said Eragon, _Flying is so much faster than horses. It took me and Brom a day to get off the mountain, and you're halfway to Yazuac and we've only just started. _Eragon mused, wondering how much of Alagaesia had Saphira seen while Eragon and Brom went on horseback.

_You have no idea how miserable it was for me: to know I could fly us to Daret, faster than it took for you and Brom to cross that dratted River. It was very frustrating. It was why I pinned you down that one day. _Saphira explained, her wings pounding as she pushed them faster towards Yazuac, eating up what would have been leagues on the ground. It was amazing. No wonder the Rider's could control so much Empire so easily. The Dragon's could easily make it around Alagaesia in a month.

_Sorry it took me so long. Look, there's Yazuac. Fly over it slowly, Saphira. _Eragon extended his mind as Saphira flew over the city. Yazuac, for all it had been plundered by Urgals the year before, had new people living in it. He could sense a baker, a butcher, a dress maker, and a smith. The village essentials, but there were also several other people, including a fletcher and a tavern owner. All good common folk, with little thoughts of the Empire except for how much they'd have to pay in taxes.

"Roar, Saphira. Let's see what they'll do if they see a Rider." Suggested Eragon, and Saphira gave a warning roar over the town. Heads turned, looking up at Saphira. Feeling nothing but intrigue and mild confusion from the townsfolk, he encouraged the people to fly lower, though not land entirely.

"Blue Rider! How can the good people of Yazuac be of assistance to you!?" yelled the butcher, wiping a knife and putting it down within arms reach.

"We need gear" Eragon yelled. "Utensils, a bowl and the like, a good bedroll with blanket, a warm cloak, and at least a dozen arrows." He spoke loudly and clearly, the butcher nodding at the list. The man looked at several people in the town, who went into their shops, coming out with the items he had asked for.

Eragon sensed Raya on Tunivor, very high above him and surmised the townspeople couldn't see them. "I'm going to come down, I have your word you won't attack?"

"We bear you no ill will, Blue Rider. Galbatorix can rot for all we care. He won't learn of your presence from us." The butcher said it loudly and the people around nodded their heads, adding their own curses on Galbatorix for good measure. Eragon urged Saphira land near the fountain. He looked at the items that were brought forward and began to pull out his moneybag when each of the sellers crossed their arms.

"Do not insult us, Rider." Said an old woman, who had brought the cloak, the bed-roll, and a blanket. "Put your money bag away."

"I must pay you somehow," Eragon still had his hand on his money bag. "If only so you can pay the King's taxes."

"Nonsense," said the fletcher, holding over two dozen goose-fletched arrows. "Will you insult us and our skill? Take them."

"Yes, this way, we can say that Rider Eragon wears a cloak of my making," said the old woman. Eragon was surprised she knew his name. "Surprised we know of you? Take them, Eragon. I'd give you whatever you want, just to spite the Empire." She seemed like a solid, no-nonsense woman.

"But I won't be wearing it," Eragon said, uncomfortably, still refusing to take these people's things, without paying for it. _Talk some sense into them, won't you? _He asked Raya, and the second he contacted her, Tunivor blocked the light in the square, casting a dragon-shaped shadow over the town. "She'll be wearing it."

Raya urged Tunivor to the ground and the people of Yazuac gasped at both Rider and Dragon. Tunivor's scales glittered like diamonds and Raya climbed down with a grace unseen by the townspeople. She came over to the old woman. "Hello Granny Lady," she said, kissing the woman on both cheeks.

"White Rider, take this cloak, it is made of the best wool I have and dyed to perfection. It will keep you warm on Dragon back, and it will look good." The old woman extended the cloak, and Raya put it on. She hugged the old woman.

"It is a fine cloak. Not even the elves could make something so soft, nor so warm. And the color is indeed perfection. Like young ivy." Raya praised the cloak, accepting it without handing over a coin. She hugged the woman again, and to Eragon's keen eyes, she placed something in the woman's pocket. Eragon realized what Raya was doing.

"Wear it in good health," said the old woman, handing over the bed-roll as well. She hugged Raya one more time, and Raya handed the roll to Eragon. In the gesture, Eragon slipped several coins into her hands. Raya smiled, realizing that Eragon had noticed the trick.

The Fletcher stepped forward, and Eragon realized that the man was shy in the presence of Raya. "I've never seen an elf before," he said handing over the arrows, Raya placed them, all two dozen in her quiver.

"Could you hold it for a moment," she asked the Fletcher, readjusting the cloak so that she could put the quiver on properly. The Fletcher helped her, and Raya hugged him, putting a few more coins in his pocket. She did the same to the bowl-maker who had handed her some general supplies. Raya packed everything up, hugged everyone one more time, and then climbed up on Tunivor. The Dragon stretched its wings up wide, flaring them so the young folk ooh'd and aah'd. Snaking his head into the fountain, he let loose a rumble, which causing bubbles in the fountain. The water became clearer, and the stone was wiped to a clean white, with no cracks.

_That is the least I can do for the people of Yazuac. _Tunivor said, projecting his voice so all could hear him. Several people bowed, others clutched their heads, surprised at the power of Tunivor's voice. Eragon mounted Saphira, and she spread her wings wide, pounding down until Eragon and Roran were in the air.

"Se onr sverdar sitja hvass!" He said to the crowd below, and they ran forward, arms extended.

"May your swords stay sharp!" Raya called out, and Tunivor leaped into the sky, his powerful muscles launching him directly into the air. Eragon looked at the young people, who would probably dream of Dragon's, Rider's, and Elves, with the hope that sometime soon, the Riders would return to the point that they too might be Rider's someday, and go on brave and daring adventures.

Saphira and Tunivor flew away, following the Ninor River until they reached the banks of Isenstar Lake. Tunivor flew off to hunt, while Saphira and the others settled down. "We'll have to keep watch tonight," Eragon murmured, "The soldiers barracks in Gil'ead are full." He looked toward the city, "and I don't know about you, but I'd rather not be arrested."

"They're offering an Earldom to whomever can catch you," Roran said, looking up from his dinner. "I read it when I was in Teirm. It was odd seeing you on a wanted poster."

"An Earldom!" exclaimed Katrina, "Well maybe I'll just march myself over to Gil'ead," she teased, poking Eragon and Roran.

"You're a wanted man, Roran. How much are they offering for you?" Eragon teased his brother, while they sat down to a quick dinner.

"A few thousand gold pieces," said Roran, looking determinedly at his bowl. "It's a pitiful amount when compared to you."

"Well, I'll be," said Katrina, hugging Roran, "I didn't know my husband was worth so much, and here I thought I was marrying a farmer." Roran laughed and hugged her in return. Tunivor landed soon after that, a whole dear in his jaws, which he took apart with surprising speed, giving an entire haunch muscle to Raya, who chopped it into their dinner. Tunivor gave the rest of the haunch to Saphira, and then settled down to his three quarters of a deer.

The fire went out soon after that, and the only warmth came from Saphira and Tunivor. Indeed, Tunivor was so warm, smoke issued from his nostrils, and Roran and Katrina settled down there for the night, though Katrina worried they'd smell like Dragon-smoke the next morning.

_Is that just a Tunivor thing, or do all dragon's the size of a small hill emit smoke like that? _Asked Saphira, settling down on one side of the camp.

_I'm afraid it's a size thing. The fires in my stomach are hot enough to eat through my skin if I'm not careful. So the smoke helps get rid of some of the heat. You have smoke coming from you too, Saphira. Yours is just much lighter and smaller in comparison. _Tunivor didn't mind talking about his bodily functions to Saphira, and she looked surprised to be told something she hadn't even realized before.

_So I give off a tendril of steam, and you are a smokestack or a cigar. Excellent._ She teased, flitting her tail at Tunivor, who eyed it carefully.

_Tease me not, Brightscales. I am more cunning than I may appear. _Tunivor grinned in a feral way, which made Saphira clench at the ground with her claws.

_You look more tired than cunning, _Saphira said, releasing the ground, and returning the battle of words. It was true, Tunivor had indeed been tired by this first full day of flying, and he seemed rather grateful to have Raya and Katrina, who were much lighter, on his back. Though Eragon surmised the Dragon would be back to his full health faster than his Rider was.

_I have secrets under my wings, secrets that would awe even you, _Tunivor shuffled the big wings on his back, and folded them with a snap.

_Then awe me, _Saphira challenged the white dragon. Tunivor snorted, ignoring her challenge.

_All in good time, Brightscales. All in good time. _Tunivor closed his eyes again and, to everyone else's knowledge, had gone to sleep, dozing with one ear creaked open for noise. Conversation done. Saphira looked a bit dismayed.

Eragon was keeping watch for the first part of the night. But it was cold, and he found it hard to focus with the weather and the wind. He'd open his ears to the night, his mind to the life around him, and found that most of it had slowed in the cold of the autumn night. The only life he felt that had all moved in his first few hours of watch, was Raya. She had woken up every half an hour or so, turned in her bed roll, then tried to go back to sleep.

After a while, Eragon was going mad from her constant movings, but also mind numbingly bored from the lack of anything else happening. He went over to Raya, tapped her awake, and whispered, "Will you sit and watch with me? I can't think clearly at all tonight." She sat up and motioned for Eragon to sit next to her. When he sat down, feeling the warmth of a dragon behind him, Eragon calmed. Raya threw her blanket over their knees.

"Better?" she asked, a small smile playing on her mouth. Eragon nodded in the affirmative, realizing how much easier it was to think now that he wasn't cold. "Something is bothering you, Eragon. What is it?"

"The other day I admitted to the possibility of being a Son of Morzan, and you didn't even bat an eyelash. You heard it, asked a question, and then continued to talk about my mother. How? Most people would mistrust a son of Morzan." It had been bothering Eragon, the ease at which Raya had accepted him. She hadn't looked at him with disgust, in fact she'd accepted the possibility and told him he _didn't _look like Morzan. That he and Murtagh were at most, half-brothers. Was it possible that she honestly didn't care about his family? That she cared about his family as much as she cared about hers?

Raya was quiet for a minute, as the thoughts and worries flitted through Eragon's head. "Your mother is the only parent you are sure of. Even if Morzan was you sire, which you are unsure of, you are not his son. You weren't raised by him, and you certainly don't act like him. Do you think of yourself as a son of Morzan? Is he your father?" Raya had asked Eragon every question he had asked himself.

"I guess not. Garrow and Brom and Oromis were more fathers to me than Morzan," Eragon needed to explain it, and he needed to hear her verify his thoughts. That way, he knew he wasn't just rationalizing to himself. "It's just, I feel like I am tainted by his very name."

"The sins of the father aren't born with the son," Raya quoted a very well known saying, "You are not Morzan. You are not responsible for his evils. I don't know your brother Murtagh, or your uncle, Garrow, but I did know Morzan. And you are nothing like him"

"I can take solace in that. It eases my mind some, for those thoughts have been venom to me since Murtagh told me we shared a mother, if not a father as well." Eragon let his mind drift, and silence enveloped him and Raya. "We'll make it to Kirtan tomorrow."

"Yes we will," she responded quietly. "Mercifully, we won't be there very long." Raya fiddled with the hem of her clothes, "Sleep, Eragon. I'll keep watch from here."

"Wiol Ono," he murmured, feeling his eyes go heavy as sleep crept towards him, "I trust you Raya. I barely know you, but I trust you."

"Thank You, Eragon" she put a hand to his brow and Eragon found it cool and calming. "Good Dreams," she whispered and Eragon finally fell asleep.

The next morning, Eragon was woken by Saphira's nose touching his side. _Time to go, little one. We've let you sleep, and you can eat while we fly. _Eragon took the blanket off, folding up the bed-roll along with the blanket and giving them to Raya. She handed him a breakfast bread that had been stuffed with melted cheese, grilled onions, and wild spinach. Eragon wrapped the sandwich, lifted himself into the saddle, and held on tightly as Tunivor and Saphira lifted off.

Lunch sat on the pommel in front of Eragon, occasionally shrugging and shuffling his glossy black feathers. Eragon handed him some onion, which the crow snapped up happily. It hopped up to Eragon's shoulder, running it's beak thorugh his hair. _Friend. Head-voice, Eragon, Friend. Take lunch on big fly. Lunch see world. Lunch very glad. _

_I'm glad to have you with us, Lunch. Will you do something for me? Can you give pointy-eared lady a friendly preen like you did me? Her old flock is gone. _Eragon had to speak like the crow, for the crow to understand him.

_Pointy-ears have no flock? Lunch, and head-voice, and fire hair, and big lizards all flock. Lunch tell her. _The crow touched Eragons hand, and then shrugged and flew over to Tunivor, landing in Raya's lap. He watched over his shoulder as Lunch preened Raya's hair, picking up a strand with his beak. Raya smiled at the crow: Eragon surmised he had called her "flock."

Lunch stayed with Raya and Katrina for a while, hopping between both women and making them laugh with his antics. Roran and Eragon talked about elf niceties, Eragon teaching Roran how to introduce himself to them, and how to greet the elf-nobles. Roran, as a human, technically shouldn't be seeing the elfin cities. But as Eragon's flying companion, and as one of the hunters of the Ra'zac, he would be tolerated to some degree, especially because on top of all that, he was Eragon's "brother."

When they reached the elven city of Kirtan, Eragon and Saphira flew down first, with the elves moving out of the small clearing which was the center of the city. Saphira landed with a muffled _fwomp_ and Eragon and Roran quickly jumped down. An elf-man in noble garb rushed forward.

"Hail Shadeslayer, Skulblaka," he said, pulling up to a stop mere feet from Eragon. "Atra esterni ono thelduin," he put his fingers to his lips.

"Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr," Eragon responded coolly, "I am Eragon Shadeslayer, and this is Saphira Bjartskular, and that is my cousin Roran Stronghammer. As an honor to me, will you speak in this tongue?" Eragon pointed to those he introduced. The elf looked skeptically at Roran, but nodded that he would speak in the human tongue for Roran's sake.

"Of course. It is and honor to meet you all. How can the people of Kirtan be of assistance to you?" Eragon realized that, wherever he went, people would bend over backward to help him.

"Can we start with moving these people out of the clearing," he said, noticing how people came forward to greet them, "and find me your fastest message runner." He was looked at oddly but the elves moved to the sides and a young elf-man came forward with a deep bow. _Now, come down, slowly,_ he projected to Raya, and to add to the drama of the moment, Saphira gave an ear-splitting Roar.

Tunivor exploded from between the clouds with an answering roar, and elves in the clearing screamed in shock and amazement. When he let go a great belch of flame, one elf-woman fainted. Eragon let loose his mind, feeling the mixture of elven emotions. Some were afraid, because Tunivor's hulking white body, gleaming in the afternoon sun, claws and spines fully drawn and displayed, while flame shout out of a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth, terrified even the bravest of elves. Others were thrilled, enraptured and overjoyed at the presence of the White Dragon. As Tunivor landed, an amazed and joyous cry went up at the knowledge that there was a Rider on his back. _What were they expecting, a wild dragon? _

Raya's cowl was up and she kept it up as she dismounted, helping Katrina to the ground. Raya loped gracefully to the spot where Eragon was standing, Tunivor stretching languorously behind her. At his massive size, he took up almost the entire clearing and, if he spread his wings, he could have covered the entire area like a tent. His head snaked over, hovering behind Eragon and Raya.

Raya took down her cowl and extended her forearm, in Rider's greeting, to Eragon. Only then did she turn to greet the elf noble. "Atra esterni ono thelduin" she greeted him, bringing two fingers to her lips. The elf stared at her in shock.

"Mor'ranr lifa hjartr onr," he gasped, eyes flitting over her long brown hair, her pointed ears, and her mildly slanted green eyes, set over wide high cheekbones. He knew from certain features that Raya was an elf. But there was something in the way that he looked at her, that made Eragon think he saw more than Eragon did. "Welcome to Kirtan, I am…"

"Horvan, son of Lifkaen, Lord of the House of Kirtan," she finished. She had interrupted him. Eragon was in as much shock as Horvan was. How could an elf, knowing the rules of etiquette, purposely interrupt? "I know who you are, I remember you. I am Raya, daughter of Teodar Tharandurín, and Rider to Tunivor Diamondhide, and the last apprentice of Lord Vrael." As Raya spoke in her cool alto, several people gasped at her name, or at her rudeness. Eragon wasn't sure which. Somehow, people seemed surprised to see her.

"Your highness," lord Horvan stuttered, lisping on the s. Raya quickly and abruptly held up her hand.

"Never 'your highness,' Call me Shur'tugal. White-Rider. Rider Raya, but never highness. And most certainly not princess. For none saw me fit to be named one when i was born one, and nor has anyone ever treated me like one." Her tone was flat and Eragon was surprised to see her eyes flash with steely cold anger.

"Of course, White-Rider," although he had been told to call her that, Eragon realized that Horvan's address irritated Raya even more. The man turned to make his introductions to Tunivor and finally returned his gaze to Eragon. He seemed rather grateful to be speaking to a Rider that wouldn't eat him alive.

Eragon outlined the message he wanted sent directly to Islanzadi and what his and Raya's flight plans were. When the elf-lord heard that all four travelers were tired and wanted to wash and change clothes, he was more than willing to offer them a place to stay, looking uncomfortably at Raya. "Anything you and your companions need, Rider Eragon, please, don't hesitate to ask."

They were shown to a guest-house, several dozen feet in the air. Several beds were set up, and the bath was already drawn. Katrina and Raya bathed first, which Eragon could tell made Katrina uncomfortable (she still couldn't understand the bareness of the Elves bodies). When they put on the elf-clothes, Katrina marveled at their softness and the richness of the material. Raya wasn't in the least bit surprised at the quality of elf clothes, for she had worn them before. These clothes fit her almost perfectly and, Eragon couldn't help but blush at the thought, she looked very good.

Soft chestnut brown leggings caressed hips and thighs, which had filled out significantly in the past few days, showing the muscles in her legs. A vivid, leaf-green tunic highlighted her light olive skin and ivy green eyes. She had been given new boots, in almost black leather, which muffled her walking. Eragon's eyes flitted down her curves several times.

_Eragon, Stop it! _Grumbled Saphira in his mind. _Your attraction to her is making me blush. And Dragon's don't blush. _

_Sorry! It's just, she's changed so much, physically in the past week, and I cannot help but look in awe at her. _Eragon apologized profusely, tearing his eyes from Katrina's form while she brushed her hair.

_Fine. But keep check on your tongue, _muttered Saphira, _say nothing about your…thoughts. _

_I won't, Saphira. Those thoughts came unbidden into my mind. I learned from my experience with Raya. _Eragon explained, picking up his own clothes and walking into the bath as soon as Raya and Katrina had vacated it. He and Roran got clean quickly, Eragon using magic to remove the hair from his face. Roran too marveled at the softness and quality of the elf-garb.

"No wonder the elves all look like royalty: wearing this would make anyone feel like a prince," said Roran, pulling on a clean tunic. Like with Eragon, the elves had to find garments that were wide in the shoulder to fit Roran. Elf men were like elf-women in their appearance. Generally less tapered, and more lithe. On more than one occasion, Eragon had wondered if a certain person was male of female because of the relative similarity in body type and the long fair hair.

"No dwarf will admit it, but in the quality of their material, elf-clothes are far superior. But, the dwarves love to elaborately decorate and embroider their clothing which the elves don't do to such a degree. But, you're right about feeling like a prince. I felt the same." Eragon slipped into clothes that were a mix of elf (leggings and boots) and dwarf (tunic) and hooked his new sword to his belt, leaving it in a cream colored sheath. He handed Roran over the dwarf-blade, Carachlin, so that he wasn't unarmed while he went without his hammers.

"Will we need these weapons?" asked Roran, fiddling with the hilt, uncomfortable with the one-sidedness of the swords weight. Eragon handed him a pouch which held nothing but a lead weight. When Roran gave him a funny look, Eragon shrugged.

"It'll keep your walk even for now. Many people swagger unevenly when they carry a sword and your hip and side hurt," Eragon extended the weight again and Roran took it.

"How come you don't wear one?" Roran asked, running a comb through his hair.

"Don't need to anymore, what with the dragon magic. Besides, the belted is slightly weighted," Eragon gave the belt of Beloth the wise a tug, exposing the diamonds. Eragon always tied and clasped the belt on the side opposite his sword hip. "Come, there's to be a feast tonight."

"A feast of vegetables," grumbled Roran.

"Don't gripe. Firstly, you don't eat nearly enough vegetables. Secondly, you'll hardly notice the lack of meat." Eragon and Roran walked into their room, only to find that Raya and Katrina weren't there. They had already gone down. "We'll only be here for tonight, so be nice, and try to be as polite as possible."

Eragon led them down the stairs, towards what was undoubtedly the main hall, where they would eat. Raya and Katrina were already there. "Why do you think Raya hates them?" Roran whispered to Eragon.

"Who? The elves? She doesn't hate them. She's just uncomfortable with so many people." Eragon explained, walking slowly to his place. Saphira and Tunivor were off to a side, being fed a myriad of cakes and pies by the elves, who were very happy to see both dragons.

"I know my knowledge of etiquette isn't the same as yours, but she greeted you first. And she never speaks to them in their own tongue. Whereas, you speak to them frequently in elvish." Roran shrugged and walked over to where Katrina was seated, greeting the people seated nearby, in as close to elvish as he could muster. The elves nodded their appreciation of his use of a traditional greeting, and encouraged Roran to sit.

Eragon couldn't help but think about it. Roran was right. If Raya hadn't been a Rider, someone would have chastised her severely for that breach of protocol. She was supposed to greet Horvan first, and she shouldn't have interrupted him. Not only that, but she had corrected Horvan, when he had used the wrong title. That wasn't done in front of everyone, that was said to the side.

After a sumptuous dinner where (finally) Eragon ate more than anyone else, all four guests walked toward the tree home they had been given for the evening. Raya looked up at the branches of the tree, shuddered, and shook her head.

"I'll be staying on the ground tonight," she said, striding off purposely toward the spot where Tunivor was wrapped around a tree. She got her blanket and, with Tunivor spreading his claws like he was holding a ball, she made herself a place to sleep between them. Saphira was wrapped around a nearby tree.

"Go on up," he told Roran and Katrina, and walked off towards Saphira. _Can you hear them? _

_No. They talk mind to mind. Eragon, you think Roran is right? That Raya hates the elves?_ Saphira sifted through Eragon's thoughts. _Is there a problem with that?_

_Well. No. Orik didn't like the elves much either. But he respected them. Raya was downright rude to Horvan when she met him. _Eragon explain, pointing out the introduction.

_If you had done that, Arya would have scalded you. You think she did it intentionally. You want to ask why? _Saphira understood that, though Eragon had walked over to Saphira's side, he had really wanted to stalk over to Raya.

_I wish I knew. Raya seemed intent on avoiding the elves altogether. There must be some reason in her past that gives her such cause for dislike. _Eragon was confused. Elves valued social courtesy as the highest virtue. Raya, as an elf, would surely know this, AND YET! She was intentionally rude to Horvan. Insultingly rude. As a Rider, she had to be courteous, so why wasn't she.

_As a Rider, she is an ambassador, and has some degree of political clemency. She and her dragon don't really HAVE to do anything. But still, politeness would open doors that politics could not. _Saphira nudged Eragon in Raya's direction. _You know you want to, so go ask her. _Eragon argued mentally that he didn't want to risk angering Raya, but his rational half (which sounded surprisingly a lot like Saphira) argued that as her flying companion, he had to know this, so it wouldn't hurt them later on.

"Raya, Svit-kona," he said, coming closer. Tunivor pulled his claws from around Raya and she looked up at him. Eragon used the formal honorific, and realized that it caused Raya to narrow her eyes at him. He tried a different approach, "I use the honorific because I don't want you to be angry with me. But, since it bothers you, I shall ask if I may be frank."

"Of course, Eragon. I have done something to trouble you again. Please, speak your mind." Her voice was cool and low, and Eragon understood it to mean that she hadn't been in a good mood. She had only used that voice, when she was being extremely nice, and when she was irritated with something.

Eragon sat down, so that he was at eye-level with Raya. Her face softened. "I'm not going to chastise you. I'm simply going to point it out: you were rude to Horvan." Raya didn't say anything, simply stared at him with level eyes. "I know that, as a Rider, you know the rules of etiquette, just as well as I do. Meaning you were intentionally rude. Why?" Eragon could feel his palms were sweaty, and if Raya got mad at him now, he was practically defenseless. A sitting duck, if he counted what Tunivor could do to him.

Raya observed him, smiled, and motioned for Saphira to come over. The blue dragon lifted herself gracefully, unwrapped herself from the tree, and came over to Eragon and Raya. "For the past few days I have let you believe something about me that I probably should have corrected a while ago. The other day, we spoke about our family's and our histories, and I rather avoided saying much." She shuffled a bit, crossing her legs and putting her hands into her lap.

"Eragon, will you admit that you and I have several features in common?" Raya asked him, and Eragon nodded. "Will you also admit that you are not an elf?" Eragon nodded again.

"I was made this way by dragon magic at the Agaeti Blodhren ceremony. But, yes, I was born human." Raya nodded.

"What features distinguish you as a human?" she asked. Eragon felt like he was seated at Oromis' side, speaking and thinking about philosophy.

"Well, my ears aren't as pointy, my eyes aren't as slanted, my cheeks aren't so sharp," Eragon listed the obvious features, those visible on his face, touching the points on his ears. "Nor am I built like an elf. I'm broader in the shoulder, and have the body type of a human." Raya smiled understandingly.

"Those are all true. Would you like to know another?" she asked and Eragon nodded. "Your hair." For a second Eragon was a bit confused. How could his hair tell him apart as a human? His confusion must have read on his face, for Raya continued. "For one, you have facial and body hair. Elves don't. The other thing, that which makes you even more obviously human: Your hair is brown, a slightly curly."

Eragon had flushed uncomfortably when Raya had mentioned his body hair, but had been quickly sidetracked by what she had said about his hair being brown and curly. When he thought about it, Eragon realized that all the elves he had met had either white blonde, gold, or raven black hair. If it was brown, it was the kind of deep auburn that bordered on ebony. And elf hair was almost always straight. None had wavy hair, and only those who had magicked it so, had tight springy curls in their hair.

"Elves can change their appearance so they can look how they wish to, right?" asked Eragon, remembering what Arya had told him about the elves vanity: themselves.

"True, but they can only change so much," Raya told him, letting him ponder some more. Eragon looked intently at Raya, remembering how she had looked that first day she had walked down, finally clean, her brown hair gleaming in the light. _Brown. _

"Wait a moment, your hair is brown. Straight and brown, but brown nonetheless. Like mine." Eragon had noticed it every time she washed it. Her hair had both intrigued and confused him. At first he had assumed that its appeal was its length, the red and gold highlights that played through it in the sun, or perhaps her tendency to pull it into a tail or a braid, which most elves rarely, if ever, did. But the more he looked at Raya, the wide features, the brown hair, the dark green eyes, the more something made sense to him, until finally, it clicked in his mind. "You aren't an elf. Not fully."

"No. Like you, I was born from a human mother," said Raya quietly. Eragon realized now why Raya's appearance had intrigued him so. It reminded him (rather vainly) of himself. Her base features, were human. Her facial features, were broader, kinder, but stretched by years of dragon magic and the effect of elfin blood. Her body wasn't like the lithe and narrow frames of the elves. She had wide, strong hips, a trim waist, and (Eragon had to control the blush) full breasts. Most elfin women were narrow waisted, narrow hipped, and small breasted. Raya wasn't. Eragon realized why she had fit so easily in Katrina's clothes. She could wear human gear much easier than the narrow and trim elf garb. Then there was her skin. Olive. Elf skin was the ethereal ivory color, white and glowing. Hers was a light olive. No doubt, she tanned a rich golden brown like he and Roran did during the summer. And her hair was brown.

"Your father was from an elfin house. A cousin to the king. That makes you half-elf, half-human. Isn't that impossible?" asked Eragon, hoping that she wouldn't be mad at him.

"We're different races Eragon, not different species" she muttered coldly, her eyes flashing. Eragon mentally hit himself. He should have clarified.

"I didn't mean to say that you shouldn't exist. Just all the tales of Human Riders falling in love with Elf women always result in pain and tragedy, with no children. Many just say it's impossible." Eragon lifted his hands in submission, praying Raya wouldn't pounce on him.

"It's not impossible. Just frowned on. When I was young, the word 'Abomination' was thrown my way at least 20 times a day. That was before Tunivor." Raya said it with spite and anger, spitting the word, and Eragon could tell from the look in her eyes, that the memory was a painful one.

"I'm sorry I brought it up," Eragon apologized. How many times had he, Eragon, been called no-mans son.

"You wanted to know why was I intentionally rude? That is why. Because the Riders were the only people who accepted me for what I was. Knew my parents were mixed, and they didn't care. They trained me any way. Vrael trained me himself. The elves, with their thrice damned courtesy, did not see it as rude to tell an eight year old girl that she was an unwanted abomination, who didn't deserve to exist."

"Orik said something similar. They would dine and smile with you, but could easily decide that you were better off dead." Eragon remembered, that Orik had been very inebriated at the time, but the words were true in any way.

"He is right. You were in Ellesmera once. Did you find elves who hated you just because you, a human, were Saphira's Rider?" She didn't wait for an answer, she knew he must have had that problem. And Eragon nodded, remembering Vanir's taunting. "They will not ever like you, Eragon. To the elves, humans are just one step up from animals. Too raw, unfinished, barbaric even. And ugly. They won't say it to your face, and they'll show you the respect due to a Rider, but not an ounce more." She was bitter and angry. Eragon wondered if her bitterness stemmed from her youth or the fact that she had been locked away in a cave, forgotten for a hundred years.

"I know of some elves who like me and Saphira well enough." Eragon said, trying not to sound accusing. He found it hard to believe that the elves could be so harsh, so rude, so downright mean, to a young girl.

"Aye, you _and Saphira._ But you alone? They will be your allies, Eragon. But your buxom buddies? Elves are vain. You aren't worthy enough to be one of them. You never will be, however hard you try. Your looks, especially, will bother them. You look half-elf. Abomination." Eragon realized in the back of his mind, that Raya was partly right. The elves always spoke to Saphira first, as though Eragon was not worth talking to. Like he wasn't smart enough to understand them. It didn't make them bad, just vain.

"Fairer than any human, and more coarse than any elf." Eragon muttered, rubbing the points of his ears. _Your humanity will draw the people of Alagaesia to you. _Maybe it was worth embracing his human heritage.

"Imagine hearing that since you were a child," seared Raya. "I didn't mind it so much when I was a little girl. Children are generally ugly, until they can control their appearance. But when you said my people had not come for me in 100 years, it just reaffirmed in my mind how none cared about me when I was a girl, none cared when I became a Rider, and none cared to remember that I, a daughter of the house of Tharandurín might still be alive, even though Vrael is dead. But you're right. Being rude wasn't the right approach and it wasn't very nice of me. I shall try to be more polite in the future."

_People weren't too happy when you became the white-rider, were they?_ Saphira asked gently, extending her nose to the woman. To Eragon's surprised, Raya hugged Saphira's head, in a way that he had seen the Raya attempt to do with Tunivor, always unable to because Tunivor's head was so dratted big.

"No they weren't. Which, now that I think about it, worked to Vrael's advantage. Not even Galbatorix knew I existed, and he never really hunted for me, like he did the other Riders." She placed her cheek against Saphira's scales and Eragon felt a slight surge of jealousy against the woman, because Saphira was _his _dragon. "Vrael had come to Ellesmera, hoping to convince Evandar to go into battle against Galbatorix, but Evandar was taking his time deciding. Vrael was appealing to my father, with the hope of forcing the council of Lords to action. I was about ten at the time, and much as I found comfort in only my father's presence, politics bored me. It still does." Raya let go of Saphira's head and went over to lean on Tunivor's head. Eragon exhaled a bit.

"If it makes you feel better, Saphira and I have no stomach for politics either. Ironic isn't it, since we're constantly embroiled in it." Eragon said, standing rather possessively at Saphira's side. He knew Saphira had just been offering comfort, but it still irked him. Raya smiled at Eragon's point and continued her tale.

"I sought out Vrael's dragon, Míthravil, with the hope of maybe flying with him. When I did find him, he scooped me up onto his back and carried me right to the front of the line of children who were touching dragon eggs. The dragon's had given a white egg that year and everyone, young and old alike, had lined up to try for the eggs loyalty. He plopped me down in front of everyone and growled at them to be quiet. Then with a quick flick of his head, he dropped the white egg into my hands." Raya's eyes were distant with memory, and she clutched Tunivor's cheek tighter, as though afraid she might blink and he'd disappear.

"I was terrified when it started cracking. Everyone behind me grumbled that it was unfair for me, the half-breed, to cut in front of everyone. The dragonlet might have chosen them, which we know isn't true, but they said it anyway. But Míthravil only glowered at them and, with my palm shining from contact with the baby dragon, he led me away, back to Vrael and my father. Vrael thought it would be a good idea for me to stay in Ellesmera until Tunivor was big enough to fly with me. A few months, maybe four or five since I was still so young. Which is exactly what happened."

"No one really seemed to be too happy for me: father was so proud, and Vrael thought that since it was Míthravil who had brought me to the egg, he could oversee my training. I like to think he was proud of me too. But if I said I was the White-Rider, most just laughed at me. 'What do the dragons know? They're just animals?' They'd say to me." She was clutching Tunivor's face so hard, her knuckles were white. "When Vrael came to collect me, I was more than happy to go with him. I stayed in Doru Araeba for only about a month, before I surpassed my group-mates. I was elf-raised; I knew most of the things they needed to be taught."

"After that, I just flew with Vrael. They dwarves used Tunivor as a basis for their glass picture of Bid'daum. Someone had broken the picture, and it needed repair. Tunivor was more than happy to sit for the dwarves' artist. Whenever we met with humans or dwarves, they would bow and murmur my name with the same reverence that they did Vrael's. It was nice, being shown that sort of respect." Raya smiled, and finally let Tunivor's head go.

_You must command that same reverence now. _Said Saphira, nudging Raya with her nose. _If you let the past bother you, you cannot command the future. Forgive them their past mistakes: YOU are the White-Rider, returned. And those who know you will never forget their treatment of you. They will be ashamed enough, and you shouldn't try so hard to embarrass them. Be strong._ Saphira's words touched Raya, and Tunivor nodded to tell Raya that he agreed.

"You are indeed wise, Brightscales," says Raya, patting Saphira's nose. "I have some other people I must face, and my tone may be rough or sarcastic, but they are few. I will be nicer to those who have not personally wronged me." Eragon felt that she should forgive all those, even those who had personally wronged her. Eragon returned to his room, leaving Raya to sleep out the night outside.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: First Offering**

The elves messenger arrived the next morning, bone weary but with a message from Islanzadi herself. It said that they (the royal entourage as well as Oromis and Glaedr) would meet them in Sílthrim, and that they are eagerly "anticipating their introductions to the White Dragon, and his Rider."

The message irked Raya, and it wasn't until Eragon re-read it that he realized why. The queen, as Evandar's mate, would certainly have known of Raya's existence. Not only that, but the introductions were first to the dragon, and then to the Rider. Eragon couldn't help but feel bad for her. She was still treated as a second class citizen.

Raya grumbled mightily the whole flight from Kirtan, and her dark mood was obvious through most of the flight. He imagined that, as a daughter of Tharandurín, even the half-human daughter, she would have been acknowledged by the Royal family, who were cousins of a sort. But, they may have also disowned her, because she brought down the family as too close to humans.

Saphira had flown a bit slower over the mountains, and forest Du Weldenvarden, to give Raya time to cool off. _I'll bet my first egg she's got issues with Islanzadí, _said Saphira privately to Eragon. Eragon disagreed somewhat.

_I imagine her issues might be with Oromis and Glaedr: they were dragon riders, as well as family, they should have remembered that she existed, _Eragon said, taking up Saphira's bet.

_True, but in the chaos surrounding the fall of Vrael, it was not the Rider's which picked up his body, but the elves. Which makes the knowledge of Raya the responsibility of the King of the elves, and not the Riders, _Saphira said, looking backwards. _I still find it hard to believe someone could just __forget__ her like that. She's the White Rider! Apprenticed to Vrael! And they wrote her off like she had never existed. _

_That's horrible. I still think she'll be madder at Oromis. You do realize, that with Oromis acting as the last scion of the house of Tharandurín, that must mean Raya's father is dead. _Eragon brought up a point and felt Saphira's sorrow for her. Saphira pulled out of Eragon's mind, leaving him to his thoughts.

They had flown over Fionula and her three brothers, past Du Fells Nangoroth, where the dragon's had lost an entire years worth of Hatchlings, and they were headed eastwards towards Sílthrim. They could split the trip up into three segments, each segment taking up a day. That would give the elves a good amount of time to get to the city.

It was their first day out of Kirtan, and as the sun spread its rays over the forest, and the flying party, Eragon extended his mind toward Raya again. This time with a question that had again bothered him since his conversation with Raya. While he had spoken to her, she had reminded him of Master Oromis, in her method. But also of Orik, in her thoughts. But part of her words had irked him until he placed them with whom they reminded him of.

_Raya, _Eragon reached with his mind, _Can I talk to you? _He had allowed her several hours to cool off and had hoped that she was more open to conversation now. She was.

_Meld your mind with Saphira's. We can talk easier that way, the distance will exhaust you. _She said, voice no longer cool, but warm. Eragon was in Saphira's mind quickly, and was surprised at how much easier it was for the two dragon's to speak to each other, giving him cause to wonder how much mind to mind talking the two might have done with their Rider's unaware.

Tunivor's mind laughed, but Raya's voice spoke. _I am always aware of Tunivor. His mind is my sanctuary, my fortress. But to answer your question: much. Saphira's question's never end. Much like her Riders. _The mind-voice lapsed into a deep rasp, rumbling at times, and Eragon figured that was when Tunivor's thoughts interrupted. _But you wished to talk about something? _

_The other day, when you were talking about how you didn't like the elves. _Eragon started to continue, but Raya's voice interrupted.

_I don't dislike them. I know everyone's situation concerning me was different. But I wasn't too fond of their rules, or the way they could never respect me, but I liked them well enough. I know each person's situation was different. Forgive me, I interrupt you. _Raya had spoken quickly, clarifying her attitude from yesterday.

_It's fine. Your words always remind me of something someone else has said. First Oromis, then Brom, then Orik. _Eragon thought about the ways she had spoken to him.

_And who do I remind you of now? _She laughed in his mind.

_Murtagh. _His sentence was so simple, it shocked her. Saphira's mind was also shocked.

_How so? _Three minds thought it at him, but it was primarily from Raya.

_Not so much in character, as in words. Murtagh said Galbatorix hated the Riders because they served the elves first. To your mind and memory, is this true? Can they be so bad?_

_Yes. _She said with some wry irony. _But that's not your question. You wonder if there is some validity in Galbatorix hating them. Some 'good reason?' Correct? _When she sensed the affirmation from his mind, she continued. _Galbatorix was mad with grief when he lost his first dragon, Hurudel. _

_How come no one ever mentions the first dragons name? How do you know it? _Eragon interrupted, kicking himself mentally, because this was the same way he had talked to Brom and Oromis: never-ending questions.

_Tunivor does. So I do. Where was I? Ah yes, 'mad with grief.' He couldn't separate himself from Hurudel, and when the Dragon died he felt that death acutely. Eragon, you have shared Saphira's mind when she was in pain, does her pain not jolt through you? Now imagine her death? It would hurt unbearably, if not kill you outright. But if you did survive, like a number of Rider's did, you would remember her death acutely for every day of your life. That is what Galbatorix felt. _Raya's voice was hard, occasionally lapsing into Tunivors rasp, but Eragon knew that Raya's coldness usually masked a deeper hurt.

_I almost feel sorry for him. _Eragon was surprised at his own thoughts. Galbatorix wanted him dead. He hated Galbatorix. Why feel sorry for him?

_You should. Pity him, Eragon. For his heart died that day. Had the dragon, Hurudel, died on Doru Araeba, not in the Spine. Galbatorix would not have been in half the state he is in—was in. _Her thoughts needed some organizing, chronologically.

_The Rider's have a system to prevent the madness in those members who have lost their dragons. A sort of 'support group'? _Eragon sensed somehow, this was something she was trying to get at, but found difficult to say.

_Yes, but they would also have had another Rider nearby, separating their minds, ensuring that Galbatorix would not be fool enough to take his dragons soul into his own body. Galbatorix had neither. _Her explanation intrigued Eragon, and it intrigued Saphira.

_When he returned, did they think he had done it? Taken his dragons soul into his own body? _Asked Saphira, wondering if it was even possible, since Glaedr had told them it was a perversion of nature.

_They don't know. Vrael thought it was possible, but when Galbatorix arrived before the council of elders, they thought he was already mad and wanted nothing more to do with him. _Raya sounded tired and exasperated, not with Eragon, but with the stupidity of the Riders of old.

_They didn't even look into it. They didn't try to help him, _Tunivor's voice was distinctly deeper than Raya's and it rumbled more in Saphira and Eragons' combined mind. Eragon was shocked at the carelessness of the Riders Council and it resonated between the Dragons' linked minds. _Eragon, your outrage is a mark or your humanity. _

_Have you ever seen a madman? Most people are frightened or disgusted by the mad. So too was the council of elders. The Riders usually fight against the madness, but if he had already succumbed, he was useless to them. There was nothing they could do. _Raya's voice was cool and logical and Eragon realized she too was holding on to outrage.

_But to not even try? _Asked Eragon, beginning to wonder if they didn't maybe deserve what they got.

_Vrael wanted to, but he was away when the Council decided. He thought Galbatorix may have taken Hurudel's soul into his own body, which was the source of his extra-ordinary strength, even without his dragon. _Eragon figured that, if a Shade could use souls, to fuel his spells, than maybe a Dragon's soul could fuel a lot of magic.

_And Shruikan? What about him? If he had Hurudels soul, why did he need Shruikan?_ Both dragons were agitated at the mention of the black beast, Shruikan.

_Well, to fight a dragon-rider, you would tend to need a dragon. _Tunivor rumbled, rather amused at the thought. _But apart from the need of a mount? I think he couldn't hold onto Hurudel's soul. Mithravil believed that Galbatorix managed to bind Hurudel's soul to Shruikan, while the dragonlet was still young. _

Eragon was thunder struck at the idea. _Is that why Shruikan didn't die? His soul had been expelled and Hurudels' thrown in? Is that why he is tied to Galbatorix though his true rider is dead? _Eragon felt the partial affirmation from Raya and he felt sick to his stomach. _That's wrong. _

_It is wrong. But I don't think he threw out Shruikan's soul. He just set it aside in the body, so that Hurudel's was stronger. It's amazingly complex magic, rarely attempted by anyone. And it proves that Galbatorix isn't completely insane. _Raya says, and Eragon can feel the workings of such a spell flit underneath her thoughts, the spell is enormous.

_How do we defeat that? _Asks Saphira, worried about the power of the magic on Shruikan, _especially now that Galbatorix has Murtagh to help him? _

_My gut tells me that Shruikan is Galbatorix's weak spot. But how to exploit it, we don't know. _Raya was confused. This had been a problem set to her by Vrael, and a hundred years of thinking about it and yielded fruitless results.

_We'll figure something out. Saphira and I are fresh eyes. We just need to understand the magic a bit more. Fate would not be so cruel as to condemn the dragons to die, _said Eragon, mainly to encourage himself. They needed to do this.

Saphira decided to make her thoughts heard at that moment: _I have no intention of dying. Not do I intend to die without a fight. I may be the last living female, but I'll be damned if the dragons will die with me. _Saphira roared, bellowing a fierce battle cry that frightened birds from their trees. _THERE WILL BE DRAGONS! _

Tunivor joined her, roaring in a deep bellow that left their Riders speechless. Eragon and Raya were forced to leave their dragon's minds, so fierce was their reactions. Saphira gave a fierce cry, and dove down flaming, Tunivor flew ahead fast and dropped from the sky in a tight spiral. When he spread his wings to glide, he let loose a roaring torrent of flame the skimmed the tops of trees, making the squawking birds silence their calls. Eragon and Raya, finding their dragons' enthusiasm contagious, whooped their own joy and ecstasy, Raya standing fully in the saddle, her arms outstretched in the air.

_You are not alone, little one. _Tunivor rumbled as they calmed down and flew in a straight line again. _And you will not be the last: this I know. _

Saphira flicked her tail and gave a snort, but didn't say anything. Tunivor snapped at her tail a bit, but otherwise, left her alone. Eragon was sore from holding on so tight with his knees while Saphira and Tunivor had participated in their stunning acrobatic display.

"Saphira!" He called over the air. "Can we take a break for about an hour? My leg muscles are cramping and I'm hungry." Saphira nodded, and angled toward the ground. When they finally did land, Eragon found his legs had turned to jelly, barely able to stand properly from the tension in his legs. Raya walked over easily.

"How is it that you aren't bow-legged from riding Tunivor, like Roran and I are?" he asks her, as she watches Tunivor take off, saddle-less. He needs to eat, again. Will that dragon never be full?

"I move. Stand, walk around, jump, climb. Tunivor and I worked on a system, but I can't show it to you now, we're still getting back in shape. Soon though. When we reach Sílthrim, we might be more ready." Raya stretched her legs, lunging forward until the muscles bulged. She'd gained weight again. Like all elves, she moved like a dancer. Nature had stretched the elves dancer-like muscles over a human frame. Her hips were wider, her quads had filled out, and her calves were smooth and long. The muscles were their usual size again, and Eragon didn't think she'd gain any more weight, simply harden the muscles that already existed.

What surprised Eragon most was how much shorter she was. For a woman, she was tall, and she was taller than most human women or dwarf women, who barely reached Eragon's shoulder. But unlike elf-women (like Arya) who were almost the same height as Eragon, Raya was somewhere in the middle. Too short to be an elf, too tall to be human. The more he looked at her, the more he saw how in-between both races she was. Her eyes were too dark to be elf-green, too bright to be human. And again and again with all of her features.

Tunivor had returned, giving Saphira a part of his lunch, which she politely ate. Katrina and Roran were talking to Raya and it appeared Roran had said something amusing, for all three of them were laughing. Her smile was definitely human. The elves smiles had never reached their eyes. And when they laughed, it was so foreign a sound. Raya's laughter was full throated and warm, with a smile that reached her ivy green eyes, which did not look as old as she was.

Saphira had pulled Eragon away from the group, wanting to talk to him. _Eragon, I'm worried about you, _she said privately, sitting him in her claws. When he said he didn't understand why, she looked pointedly at him, then at Raya and Tunivor. _Eragon, you are attracted to her. Not in the same way as Arya, nor to the same degree, but still, your thoughts are constantly on her. _

_I can't help that Saphira. She's always giving me something to think about. _Eragon explained, drawing mainly on the conversation from earlier that morning. Saphira said that thoughts of Ivy-green eyes had nothing to do with this morning. _Don't you start with me, Saphira. Have I written a love saga about her? A poem of undying affection? No. I imagine if I tried a Fairth, it would be so conflicted, it would just crack into a million pieces. Besides, I've seen the way you've flicked your tail at her dragon. _

_I'll have you know, that I haven't been thinking too much about that white hulk. I've been worried about meeting Glaedr and Oromis again. _Saphira turned her nose into the air, to tell Eragon she was miffed at his accusations.

_Half-truth. You are worried what Glaedr will think about the arrival of another, very big, male dragon. _Eragon poked Saphira's palms and she looked sharply at him. _Ah-ha. See, I am right. You don't know if Tunivor is as wayward as Glaedr is, and you're too shy to ask him. _

_Dragon's are not shy. We have nothing to be shy about. _Saphira grumbled, bringing her head as close to his face as was possible. _And no, I won't ask him. That's for him to tell me in his own time. _

_But you wouldn't mind if he told you now? _Eragon teased, getting up from her claws. He ducked under her reaching claws and walked over to Raya. "I'm worried about what will happen when Glaedr meets Tunivor." Raya looked surprised to see Eragon standing so close and she took a step back to put some space between them.

"YOU are worried, or SAPHIRA is worried?" She asked, her eyes flicking over to the blue dragon, who was forcibly looking away, as though completely unconnected with Eragon's forward behavior. Raya's gaze flitted to Tunivor, and Eragon surmised, she spoke to his mind. Tunivor's head snapped up from his kill, staring intently at Raya, then Eragon, and then finally, at Saphira.

He lifted his massive white body, and stalked over to Saphira. She looked tiny in comparison to him. _Honestly? I would have thought my feelings on the topic were obvious. But, seeing as you need convincing, _Tunivor touched Saphira's side with his head, rumbling against her scales. His rumble caused him to vibrate, so his outline was blurred. He nudged Saphira with his head, pushing her gently.

Tunivor used his head to bring Saphira's wings up, careful not to puncture them with his face spikes. Saphira backs up a few steps, and Tunivor backs up, each step making his scales quiver. Tunivor unfurls his great white wings, and Eragon see that his blood is rushing through the pearly white membranes, streaking them with red and blue veins. He arches his neck and back, so that his man-size spikes stand up straight and erect. His rumble turns into a growl, and the ground around him shakes with it. While Eragon is looking at him, Tunivor's scales begin to glow. His belly fires are hot, white-hot, and the light and heat are pushing through Tunivor's scales, making small rainbows flit through the prisms of his scales.

Tunivor lowers his head, till his neck is parallel to the ground, and he starts to sway on the spot, swinging his head from side to side, coming up a bit with each sway. The more his head swerves from side to side, the whiter the light emanating from him, until he's weaving on the spot, his neck high and extended, like a cobra. His face spikes are splayed, like the cobra's hood, and his jowls are strong and wide.

He lifts his wings up, high and wide, splaying them like a peacock tail. The flicker of light from his inner fires plays across his scales, and he flutters his wings, like a lady would wave a fan. The red and the blue blur, showing sparks of purple, but his wings gleam pearl white, rose-white, cream-white. The colors play in a spectacular whirl of colors. Tunivor pulls himself into a seat on his haunches, sitting up, front claws off the ground. He extends his neck proudly and roars, full throated, deep.

He opens his maw, and lets loose a high column of white flame. After a moment, he cuts the column, and goes back on all fours, wings still splayed, stretching his neck forward and opening his mouth wide, inside flames whirl in the depths of his throat, white hot. The whirling mass of flame forms a ball, and he exhales it forward, the ball moving very slowly and then disappearing in the air outside of his mouth.

Saphira is watching with her eyes wide and Eragon can feel her heart flutter and her mind race. Instinct and heat are rushing through Saphira's scales, and she too is vibrating. Eragon can feel his breaths coming in short gasps, and he can barely breathe. As Tunivor finally stops vibrating, slowing down into a slow hum, the light coming from him dies down. He is shaking with the exertion of his display, but looking expectantly at Saphira.

"What was that?" asks Eragon, looking predominantly at Saphira, who is barely holding herself still. When she doesn't answer, Eragon looks at Raya.

"Um, well," Raya appears to be in much the same state as Eragon: pupil's wide, breath coming in short gasps, a flush creeping over her neck and cheeks. "I think that was the First Offering." Raya, stumbles backward and Roran catches her, when she looks about to fall.

"First Offering?" he asks, helping her sit down. Eragon can feel a rush of jealousy shoot through him. Roran fans Raya with a hand and Eragon goes over to sit down next to her.

"What does it mean?" asks Katrina, handing Raya a water skin, and Raya drinks gratefully. "He looked beautiful, with all those colors playing across his wings and his scales, but what was it supposed to do."

"It was Tunivor's way of asking Saphira, if he may court her." Eragon says, realization rushing through his mind, now that he was no longer taken in by Tunivor's color display. "He's asking her, if it's okay for him to try to be her mate." Eragon shook his head, clutching at his temple, as the Dragon emotions left him.

Saphira came over to Eragon. She extended her mind so that if touched everything in the clearing, _Maybe. He must convince me further. _She was playing coy, but the fact that she was allowing Tunivor to continue with his 'convincing,' was more than enough for the white dragon. Tunivor gives an answering roar, one that is throaty, and even Roran and Katrina can feel his joy in his lusty ululation. Saphira gives a dragon grin and Tunivor leaps into the air with an almighty lurch. With a quick wing-flap, he's flying higher and higher into the air, tumbling acrobatically. When he lands he is happily flushed and preening. He nods to Saphira, in way that is very regal, and returns to his lunch.

_Does that answer your question? _Eragon shot to Saphira.

_Yes. _Saphira smiles inwardly. _It does. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Dorev and Il'hen**

Eragon did not feel comfortable around Raya and Tunivor after the First Offering. He'd look at the White dragon and thoughts that weren't his would flit through his mind. The brightness of his scales, the sharpness of his teeth, the unusual but powerful jowls, all interested him in a way they had not the day before. Eventually, he'd snapped at Saphira to get her thoughts on the White Dragon out of his mind.

_I'm debating whether or not he will make a good mate and I need to know your opinion on the matter, _Saphira replied, equally as snippy.

_Well, my thoughts on the matter are get your thoughts out of my head! _He'd snapped at her just a little too fervently, and Saphira had turned up her nose at him, completely blocking him from her mind. Eragon regretted it, but realized that, with the long flight ahead of him, not having to listen to Saphira meant he could truly listen to his own thoughts and make up his own mind. For it wasn't just the thoughts of Tunivor that disturbed him, it was when his mind turned to Raya that Eragon became worried.

He was conscious of the fact that he was repeating the thought process he'd had about Arya. But unlike Arya, Eragon didn't really have cause to like Raya (apart from the obvious fact that she was a Rider). Raya irritated him, not in a way that he'd absolutely hate her. The twins had irritated him as well, and he loathed them. But Raya confused him, and his elf-like senses did not like being confused, and that irritated him. More even than that, even if he did pursue a relationship with Raya, Eragon knew he'd be turned down faster than he had been with Arya. If, at 80+ years of age, Arya was too old for him, than at almost 120, Raya was way out of his league.

Part of his mind, which tried to be sensible, told him, he didn't really like Raya in the first place. Yes, she was very pretty. Her human-like features gave a kindness and simpleness to her face that the elves did not have. Expressive eyes flashed between dark ever-green and ivy-green, going almost to the bright elf-green, and then back, depending on her mood. And no human or elf alive had the body she did. She was like Arya in that, she was wise, especially after having flown for nearly a decade with Lord Vrael.

Lord Vrael!! The Leader of the Riders! She had been his apprentice, and a key in some major plans thought out by Vrael, of which she had yet to tell him anything. There must have been some reason she, specifically was imprisoned. And even if there was no other reason, save to keep a Rider alive, in reserve, she must have fascinating and interesting adventures and stories to tell about the time in which the Rider's were powerful. It drove him mad for, apart from her own half-told history of family, Eragon knew very little about her past, having only scraped the surface.

He'd convince himself that he didn't have feeling for her, that this was just Saphira's lingering feelings for the Dragon, influencing his feelings for the Rider, but then one look at her made Eragon blush profusely. He'd tried controlling the response with only mediocre success. He found himself acutely aware of her presence and his mind was hypersensitive to her mind: he knew where she was at all times, and could, within a few seconds, pinpoint her general state of mind and her thoughts. It was maddening and his only relief from the madness was the fact that he made her just as uncomfortable as she made him. Twice he'd seen her look away quickly, a red tinge to her cheeks. Seemingly, she was in the same boat, and was undoubtedly cursing Tunivor's for leaving her with his residual emotions.

They had spent their entire second day out of Kirtan in silence. Roran had sat behind Raya, being as Tunivor thought he should up the weight on his back, to recover endurance, and Katrina had been seated behind Eragon. Katrina didn't say much, eventually falling into a nap against Eragon's shoulder, and woke up only when Lunch demanded her attention. She talked to the bird, but only Eragon could sense the birds' responses, eventually he put them aside, being as the crow's voice interrupted his (rather-conflicted) thoughts.

It was just before sundown when Eragon had finally managed to make some sense of the mess of thoughts in his head. Saphira was circling, looking for a place big enough for both Dragon's to land, and Eragon reached for her mind, hoping she would let him in now.

_I'm sorry I was snappish with you_, Eragon apologized to Saphira. _I think I've figured out how I feel_.

_I'm listening_, Saphira said, accepting his apology and bidding him to continue. She opened her mind to her Rider, and Eragon happily enveloped himself in her consciousness.

_You like Tunivor. His presence makes you happy. Right?_ Asked Eragon, knowing what her answers would probably be.

_It does_. She answered simply, trying to figure out Eragon's thoughts before he expressed them.

_Then I can do no more than approve of him. As far as his physical capacities as a Dragon, I can only let you be the judge. He's big, strong, magically powerful, and his hide-color makes him close to dragon-royalty. When I see him, I'm glad he's on our side, and that he dislikes Galbatorix and Shruikan as much as we do._ Eragon had managed to sift through his thoughts and figure out exactly how HE, Eragon, felt about the dragon. _The fact that he makes you happy, and that you like him, is enough for me. If you chose him for your mate, then I approve, for you could find none better.  
_  
_I've yet to make up my mind_, Saphira said quietly. _Physically, he is a perfect candidate. But dragon's mate as much for the soul as people do. I know very little of his person. He is kind, and he's constantly proving his skill, but he isn't cocky. I wonder, when the blood his hot in his veins, how fierce can he be? Will he fight to protect his future, or simply step aside like Glaedr has done? But, considering my other options include Shruikan and Thorn, I do believe you're right: there are none better._ Saphira has spotted a smaller field, away from the main forest of Du Weldenvarden, and had started her descent towards the spot. Tunivor it appeared, had seen the spot, and circled above them, slowly wending his way downwards. _And Raya?_ Saphira asked.

_The jury is still out on that one. My mind argues that it is ridiculous of me to have feelings for her, when less than a month ago, I was yearning for Arya. Can a person change their mind that quickly? That same part of my mind argues that my feelings for the Rider are your residual feelings for the Dragon._ Eragon wondered if this would insult Saphira, and she assuaged his fears.

_That is entirely possible,_ Saphira mused contentedly letting a draft of warm air carry her closer to the ground. _Glaedr said that, if two Rider's dragon's mated, the Rider's were as close as brothers, and often finished each other's sentences. They were staunch allies, and supported each other in battle, and very often flew together for the time their dragons were mates. But the same is true of their enemies: if one dragon stole another's mate, their Riders, even if they had been friends previously, could not speak to one another because of their Dragon's anger and hate._ Saphira seemed proud of herself, for remembering one of Glaedr's lesson's so well. _Still, what does the other part of your mind say?_

_The other part of my mind is still immensely intrigued by her. She's got a history I would love to hear, a past that is as exciting as any elfin saga, and she is as wise, interesting and beautiful as Arya. And she's more responsive than Arya._ Eragon sighed heavily, trying to weigh out all the worth of the things that attracted him to Raya.

_Is it not the human's who said, "Curiosity killed the cat"_ Saphira commented to Eragon. _You were curious about Arya's past as well, and though you've known her longer, she's told you very little, often leaving you in the dark_.

_The other part of that saying is "And Satisfaction brought it back,"_ Eragon commented dryly. _Every time I talk to Raya, every time I ask her a direct question, she answers it. Not vaguely, but with some detail. I learn something about her, the Riders, and the past. She answers me openly_.

_This only makes you think about her more._ Saphira was almost to the ground, and she had extended her claws to brace herself for impact with the ground. _When it comes to your feelings for Raya, I don't think I can help you, Eragon. I am biased by my thoughts on her Dragon. The only thing I can tell you is not to ignore her. She's been ignored too much in her past. She is important to us, and our cause, so for now treat her as you always have._

_You mean teeth bared and claws drawn, at fighting ready?_ Eragon teased her, bringing up the number of arguments he'd had with Raya in a week's time.

_I was going to say "with honesty and respect" but maybe you have a point as well. It is obvious that the both of you are a little restless, especially since sitting in the saddle is hardly productive._ Saphira landed and closed her wings, carefully folding them along her spine. _But maybe a good duel is exactly what the healer ordered. Just don't kill her._

Saphira's suggestion was a good one and, once their group had settled down and eaten a light dinner, Eragon broached the topic to Raya, opting to taunt her into a fight, because he always got a response from her that way.

"It's been a week since you woke, Svit-Kona. I should very much like to see how I compare to a Rider of Old." Eragon said it lightly, and his tone was mocking, and he delighted in watching Raya's eyes flash as he spoke.

"Is that a challenge, Eragon Finiarel?" Raya's tone was equally as mocking, as though a yearling Rider was hardly worth her time. She leaned back, trying to look casual, but Eragon could see her hand reaching for her sword, Dorev.

"I can only assume that you are a worthy swordswoman," Eragon said nonchalantly, unhooking Il'hen from his belt. He put the sword on the ground next to him, with the blade drawn an inch from the sheath. Knowing Raya, Eragon figured she could attack him while he was sitting here, like Brom did, or that she would challenge him to a formal fight like Oromis had. "I have yet to see your skill with a real sword, and have only your word that you can use that pig-sticker you call a blade."

Raya's eyes flashed, "Aye, the word of a Rider." She drawled, but her eyes flitted between Eragon's partially drawn sword, and Eragon himself.

"The word of a Rider of Old," Eragon sneered, enjoying his battle of words with Raya. "We both know how good their judgment was." Raya pulled out Dorev, looking at it with admiration, pretending to polish the flawless blade, like she wasn't about to turn its sharp edge on Eragon.

Eragon kept Il'hen in its sheath, watching Raya. She glared at him over the blade, "You might want to take that back. I've got more training than you. And I know Dorev." The blade twitched in her hands, and Eragon was distracted by the way light played across it.

At that moment, Raya leapt at him. Eragon rolled backward, pulling Il'hen from its sheath, standing quickly at the ready to block Raya's blow to his head. Eragon shoved Il'hen forward, lunging for her side. Raya jumped out of the way. This would be fun.

"Are you even sure how to wield that thing," Eragon teased over the blows, "Why the blade is longer than your arm!" He delivered a volley of blows, each one pushing her backwards. His strikes were strong enough to break a man's arm, or jar bones, and they were lightning fast. Raya blocked each strike, just in the nick of time, gaining speed as she moved. Dorev crashed against Il'hen, filling the air with shower after shower of sparks.

"I have more idea than you do. Dorev and I are old friends. You have just met Il'hen." She strained against Eragon's strength. For all she was wickedly fast, Raya was still not as strong as she once had been, though she fought with Strength (the blades name). She ground Dorev down to Il'hen's pommel.

Neither Rider had blocked their sword's edge and—though that may have worried him had he been fighting a human or dwarf—it didn't worry him much when he fought an elf. Their blades were sharp and fast, but so were both Riders. However, he would rather have liked to avoid getting a nasty gash from them. "Yeah, but you were asleep for 100 years, what would you know?" Eragon grunted, blocking Raya's strike towards his head.

"Still more than you," Raya swung again for his head, and Eragon wasn't fast enough in the block and had to duck: he didn't want to be accidentally beheaded. The move had given Raya the upper hand, and Eragon was pushed steadily backward, and he was in a nasty predicament, having to watch his footing for stray logs and branches.

"You want to block Dorev's edge, you nearly beheaded me!" Eragon said with a yip as Raya again chopped toward his head. Her assault continued steadily with every possible move towards his head, which told Eragon she wasn't interested in stopping just yet. Eragon managed to bring Il'hen up to meet Dorev for almost every blow, only ducking again when her double crescent went for his head. "Hey, you're being nasty with those head shots!"

Eragon and took the second when Raya's arms were raised for the crescent to slash at her chest, and Raya blocked him with Dorev, bringing their crossguards crashing together, hilts locking. This was where Eragon was sure he would beat her. He was heavier, stronger, and could bring both his height and weight, bearing down on her until her knee's buckled. He would exert some dominance over this Rider of Old.

Raya's eyes flashed as she tried to bear the force Eragon was exerting on her. Her muscles shook with the effort but she didn't buckle. Eragon knew there was only one way out of this position, and it involved him winning. But as he grinned into Raya's eyes, he saw one other way out of it, and it would bring him a lot of pain. _She wouldn't, _thought Eragon.

She did.

Raya dropped her weight, sending Eragon lurching forward, and let her blade slide to the side. As he lurched, she caught his shoulders, and brought her knee crashing painfully into his groin. Stars exploded in front of Eragon's eyes and he found it very hard to stand, dropping with a groan to the floor. His arms tuned to jelly and he couldn't hold his sword either. Just as he looked up, Raya brought Dorev's blue black tip to his throat. _Dead, _a voice echoed in his mind. _Dead, just like Vrael died. _

Raya's eyes were frigid, empty of all life, and the dark ivy-green had faded to almost black. "You have not seen me get nasty" she said, her voice hollow, taking the blade from Eragon's life-vein. Her eye's flickered, moving from black to evergreen, to ivy and staying there, and she observed Eragon's prone form.

"FOUL!!" Cried Roran, running forward. Raya turned to him, lifting Dorev till it reached the bridge of Roran's nose. He held up his hands, in a gesture of concession, and backed up several paces. "That was a dirty trick."

Raya glared at Roran, "Have you learned nothing from Eragon's dream? Vrael DIED because of a 'dirty trick' like that. Because Galbatorix has no honor. He will resort to whatever means necessary to win a fight. Even cheat." Her voice was angry, and it was ice-cold. The angrier Raya's voice was, the cooler it became, her alto almost dipping into a tenor. She turned to Eragon again, "At least try to protect your life and your future progeny, for I will not soften blows."

"Nor would I ask it of you, Sitja-ebrithil." _Sword-master. _Eragon bowed his head, recognizing he had been defeated. For even if she hadn't hit him 'below the belt,' her manner of escape was one used by a master. She knew how to use Eragon's weight against him, and even he had been forced to be faster, stronger, and more creative while fighting Raya.

"You honor me, Eragon. But I am not ebrithil." She extended her forearm to Eragon, and he took it, getting up with a groan. Eragon picked up Il'hen. Roran scampered back to his campfire seat.

"I have fought the elves best, if you can beat me, you are ebrithil. You don't have to soften your blows, just dull Dorev's edge. I fear next time you'll behead me on accident." Eragon breathed a bit, finding that the more air he inhaled, the less he hurt. He rubbed his neck and looked at Raya.

"Geloth du knifr," she whispered, passing her fingers over Dorev's edge. Eragon did the same for Il'hen and they faced each other to continue sparring.

They flew at each other again, connecting with a clang of steel. Eragon felt a jolt from the contact. He knew he was strong, but he hadn't realized how quickly Raya had been gaining strength. They were both impossibly fast and exceedingly well trained, and steel crashed harder on steel, each blow ringing loudly.

More sparks exploded from the contact between the blades, and Eragon thought he'd show off his own skill, and started mixing moves. He delighted in the fact that Raya was struggling to block his innovated strike patterns. She met him again, he struck and she parried, he lunged and she darted out of his way with a majestic leap and strike. Eragon avoided lunging at her, for she moved so fast, he had to twist almost backwards to block her shots.

She fed her own steady stream of moves, pulling on pattern dances that were older than she was, many of the moves both new and interesting to Eragon. He observed, repeated, and twisted them to suit his needs. Both he and Raya were a blur: he imagined Roran and Katrina were dizzy with the speed at which the two Riders moved.

Twice Raya fought dirty, aiming a fierce swing for his groin, but Eragon didn't call a foul, leaping out of her way. He was ready for all manner of nasty moves, but refused to deliver any of his own. At times, they nearly touched, their taut skin and screaming muscles were only a hair's breadth apart, sinews ready to pop from the forces they exerted on each other, and they were only to be ripped apart by the momentum of their bone-jarring blows.

Eragon's skin smarted in two places and he was pleased when he managed to land a hard whack against Raya's leg, knowing it would leave a bruise. When Eragon had been forced to adjust his eyesight, because the sun was getting lower, he drew on his reserves of energy: he would land just one more blow on Raya before they were forced to stop. Surging forward, he lunged for Raya's feet. Instead of her nimble leap in another direction, Raya surprised him, by performing a backward cart-wheel, planting her blade flat, then raising it again, its blocked point in Eragon's direction. He was surprised that she had used a Rimgar move mid-fight. Eragon lowered Il'hen.

"How did you do that?" he asked, flabbergasted. Raya shrugged, urging him forward. Eragon shook his head. "I'm done. Next thing you know, you'll draw out your claws, spread your wings, and fly over my head. Be content in knowing that I would like to learn to fight like you do."

She lowered Dorev, "I am content. I will be more content if I can find a stream to wash in. I'm soaked." She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the air around her for life. When she opened them again, she looked at the sun. "Hmm. It's getting dark. Garjzla du steila iet al Dorev!" She lifted the blade with a thrust and it lit up like a beacon. At first it was bright white, but then he saw the light fade as it worked twinkled through the dark blue blade. _Light the steel of Dorev._

"How much power does that take?" Eragon asked as Raya moved to walk away towards the stream. _I could do with a quick dip myself. _

"Not much. The light is constantly being absorbed by the blade during daylight, and the stone when the blade is in its sheath. Be careful though, Il'hen isn't a colored blade, so speak softly." Raya stalked off, only pausing to pick up a change of clothes. She had worn her own clothes while she rode. She wanted to change into proper elf-garb, for tomorrow they would reach Sílthrim.

"Garjzla du steila iet al Il'hen" Eragon said, lightly touching his power. The blade didn't even flicker. _Saphira, it's not working?_ Eragon complained, looking at the blade in his hands.

_Try again. You couldn't lift a pebble the first time either. _She said, lending him her magic. Eragon tried again. Still nothing. _Well that's odd, _commented Saphira.

_Raya,_ Eragon reached for her mind, even though she was far away, he still knew precisely where she was. _Sorry to bother you, but it's not working._ He felt the barriers of Raya's mind lower, though not completely. From his connection to her thoughts, Eragon could tell she had just dipped herself into the water and it was COLD!

_Dorev was forged of a special steel, only mined by the dwarves, and used for their hûthvír, their staff- swords. Durgrimst Quan is best known for wielding them. Rhunön Elda made it especially for Anurin. She was most upset when they refused to give her more. _Raya said carefully, explaining to Eragon why she had chosen her words.

_I have seen the_ _hûthvír, Angela used it on the Burning Plains. But what makes Il'hen so different? Is it not made of steel? _Eragon asked, observing the blade in his hand.

_Obviously not. Because it is so old, I imagine it is made of a metal once mined only by the elves. Filátina. It is rare and special metal because it had two forms, pure black and pure white. The black form was useless, though there are still halls of it throughout the elf-cities. But, in its raw form, the white Filátina is priceless. For once melted and forged, it could never be broken, nor melted for re-forging, not even by magic. _Raya sent him mental images of a mountain, hollowed by the magic of elves, seeking the precious metal. _Try that instead. _

_I will. Thank you. _Eragon said, pulling from her thoughts and back into his own mind. "Garjzla du Filátina iet al Il'hen." He said aloud, and the blade lit up the entire clearing, causing both Roran and Katrina to cover their eyes. The light was as bright as the sun.

"Blöthr!" Eragon cried out, dropping the blade. It stopped shining, and went dark. _Well that was bright, _Eragon commented to Saphira.

_Did she not tell you to speak softly, for the blade isn't colored? Foolish. _Grumbled Saphira, peeking her head out from behind one of her wings; she had ducked behind it when the bright light had exploded from the sword. _I still have stars in front of my eyes. And I'm a dragon. _

"Sorry," Eragon said, picking up the blade again. He dropped his voice to the softest whisper. "Garjzla du Filátina iet al Il'hen." This time the blade emitted a soft glow, as though the metal itself was made of moonlight. _Much better. _He got some things and, avoiding Raya's location in the stream, went to wash.

_Eragon did that too. _Raya said slyly to his mind. Eragon was surprised to find she had so easily touched his thoughts. Her voice was light and warm in his mind, and he could tell she was in a good mood. _The difference was, he shouted. _Eragon imagined, that if he just spoke, and the light was that bright, imagine if he'd shouted. Raya's bemused mind spoke once more. _It is written in the Scrolls of Lagreau, that he almost blinded the entire city of Osilon. _

_Next time I'll just take a torch, _Eragon responded, and he thought he could hear Raya laugh from her spot upstream.

**Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Oromis and Glaedr**

Eragon felt like the last day of flying before Sílthrim went by far too quickly. They had woken up early that morning, and just after noon, they were in Sílthrim.

Unlike most elf cities, which were surrounded by tall trees on all sides, Sílthrim was on the shores of Lake Ardwen. Most of the elves lived in the lower trees surrounding the lake, and the city "square" was the actual beach. The beach was a good league across, and followed Lake Ardwen for about two leagues. Certain parts of the beach, those closest to the water, were simply sand and silt. Bordering the sand was a stretch of pebbles, where the elves gathered, and then another stretch of flat earth, pounded till it was almost rock-hard, bordering the limits of the dwellings.

The dwellings of Sílthrim were not made of the high ancient oaks that were common in Ellesmera, but rather of low growing willows and yews, which were grown in groups, and then sung into shape by magic. None of the dwellings were very tall, at the most, two floors, and were much lower to the ground. Only the parts of the city, farthest from the Lake, could build their homes in high trees, though few did, opting for smaller and much lower housing.

Saphira landed first, precisely on the beach that was made of pebbles, and made room for Tunivor to come down. Eragon could already feel the presence of Glaedr and Oromis. The gold dragon had tucked himself into the trees, with Oromis sitting patiently on his foreclaw. When Tunivor finally tucked in his wings and lowered himself to the point where he was not so ominous a presence. Eragon noticed the shrewd way in which Glaedr observed the white dragon.

Raya came down with both Roran and Katrina (Tunivor had again upped the weight on his back, demanding that he could fly with three on his back, especially since Katrina was so slight). Roran took his place behind Eragon, waiting to be introduced, Katrina at his side. Raya did not pause to look at the two humans but walked right up to Eragon's side.

"Ready to face them?" He asked her, striding towards Glaedr and Oromis. Since Raya and Eragon were Rider's, etiquette demanded that they greet their Elders first, and then any local or visiting Royalty. To make it easier on the Riders, most of the time, the elf-nobles stood, in hierarchical order, nearby the Rider Elders. The difficulty then came, when the Rider Elder, and the Nobility were on different sides of a room or greeting ground. A single Rider would greet the Elder first (with the assumption that they "knew" each other, and the Rider Elder would introduce the single Rider to the nobility). Two Riders, could do the same, OR they could split up, then, meet in the middle. (Or if there were no Rider Elder's, they could simply go towards the highest ranking noble.) It was very complicated. Since Islanzadí was nowhere in sight, Eragon and Raya made for Oromis.

Saphira glided ahead of them. Tunivor stayed behind, allowing Raya and Eragon to be halfway to their destination before walking over as well. Because he was SO big, it took Tunivor only a few slow steps to catch up with them. Glaedr stood up as Tunivor and Saphira approached. The Gold Dragon was still twice as big as Saphira. Compared to Tunivor, however, Glaedr was little bigger than Saphira. When both Riders, both Dragons, and both humans finally reached the Two Elder masters, Glaedr made eye contact with Tunivor and bowed, deeply, with his nose touching the floor.

Raya was intrigued, but not surprised. Eragon, however, was in shock. Raya reached for his mind quickly, sensing Eragon's confusion. _I don't know if Saphira mentioned it, but White is the most Regal of colors for a dragon to wear. The Diamond-hide as well as Tunivor's immense size, make him the equivalent of a Dragon-prince. Glaedr shows his respect by bowing, though normally his age and wisdom make him exempt from the practice. _

_In a formal situation, would Saphira need to bow to the Dragon-prince? _Eragon asked, wondering for the moment about the protocol involving their dragons.

_No. She's female. She can do whatever she wants, and bestow honor where she wishes. _Raya responded. _Female eggs were rarely given to the Riders, and so for you to ride a female dragon is greater than for me to ride the Dragon-prince. No one tells a dragon female what to do. _

_Not surprising. Heads up, we begin now. _Eragon had pulled his mind back quickly, as Oromis had approached the two Riders. He shook hands with Eragon, greeting him warmly, like an uncle greets his favorite nephew, and then turned expectantly towards Raya. "Master Oromis, and Master Glaedr, I would like you to meet Raya, daughter of Teodar Tharandurín, the White Rider, and her dragon, Tunivor Diamondhide, white-son of Opalia the Fierce." Eragon repeated the titles he had heard, hoping he hadn't forgotten one. Realizing he had, he quickly added, "The last apprentices of Lord Vrael."

Master Oromis extended his forearm to Raya, in what was a Rider's greeting. She took it, clasping her fingers around his elbow. The two looked at each other, comfortably familiar with each other. Eragon wondered who would speak first, for he wanted to know who would be the one bestowing honor first. Because her dragon had been bowed to, Raya opened her mouth first.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin," Raya said calmly, her voice not exhibiting any of the coldness it had in Kirtan. Master Oromis nodded.

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjartr onr" he responded, his voice old, and tired. "It is good to meet you; I am keen to know where you have been for the past century?" He broke contact with her, gently patting her hand with one of his, and then turned his attention to Tunivor. "Greetings, Diamondhide."

Tunivor nodded regally, _Greetings, Ebrithil, _he rumbled, his voice touching the minds of the entire clearing. _And many greetings to you, Gold-Dragon. _

"Master Oromis, I would also like to introduce my cousin, Roran Stronghammer, Garrow's son, who led the entire village of Carvahall to the Varden, who has rankled Galbatorix for many months. The beautiful Katrina, is his betrothed, recently rescued from the Ra'zac by Roran and me." Eragon stood sideways and let Roran come forward.

Roran twisted his hand over his breastbone, with a small nod forward, "Atra esterni ono thelduin." His elf was close, lacking the accent that both Eragon and Raya had, but it was understandable. Oromis looked surprised, glancing for a second at Eragon, and then turning his gaze to Roran. Katrina simply curtsied, with a demure nod, whispering the elf greeting.

"And may peace live in both your hearts," Oromis said, putting a hand on Roran's shoulder, allowing him and Katrina to straighten. As Katrina straightened, Lunch landed on her shoulder, rubbing his beak through her bright red curls. Oromis hid a smile and looked questioningly at Eragon.

"This is the crow, self-named Lunch, who was our eyes during the rescue of Katrina. By his wish, Lunch travels with us." Eragon said quickly, explaining the presence of the crow. Unlike Blagden, Lunch did not speak aloud, only choosing to share his mind with those who could reach it: the two dragons and their Riders, with Eragon being the predominant first choice.

"Greetings, Lunch" chuckled Master Oromis, relaxing in the presence of the ridiculous creature. "Speaking of lunch, I imagine you could all use something fresh and hot to eat, come." Oromis gestured in the direction of a rather large clump of willow trees, which had their branches woven together to form a mesh wall of willow leaves.

"Where is her majesty?" asked Eragon, and he saw Raya stiffen at his side. _I guess Saphira was right, she doesn't have that big a problem with Oromis, more with the Queen. _

The three dragons stayed behind, for they could not move easily through the dwellings, and preferred to stay out on the sandy beach of the lake. Eragon could already see interested elves moving closer, hoping to introduce themselves to the dragons. It irked Eragon and he could tell it irked Raya, but they couldn't do much about it. The Riders always seemed to be afterthoughts in comparison to the glittering and powerful dragons.

"Her majesty has not arrived yet. No horse has yet been born that could out-run a flying dragon. She will most likely be here later tonight, or tomorrow morning. You took your time flying here, to give us time to travel, but I have been here for a day already." Oromis walked slowly, limping slightly as he put his weight on his cane. His gold blade, Naegling, hung from his waist. Eragon wondered if Oromis had seen that Eragon had a new sword.

"It is good to see you again, Ebrithil," Eragon said, slowing his stride to match Oromis' much slower walk. "It's been but a month, but much has already happened."

"I am eager to hear it," answered Oromis, "For your adventures of the past month culminated in the discovery of a Rider some assumed dead, and many say mysteriously vanished." Oromis wanted to include Raya in the conversation. "Where have you been, daughter of my house?"

"Edoc'sil." Raya answered simply, making eye contact with Oromis. "I thought I had been forgotten, Ebrithil."

"Many knew naught of you, and those who did, I am ashamed to admit, did not seek you as fervently as they should. We were in sore need of a Rider 60 years ago, after Evandar and your father died. Apart from me, the Rider's were all but gone, save for the wretched Wyrdfell. Some adventure seekers hoped to find you, but by then, the White Rider had already passed into myth." Oromis said sadly, looking at Raya with great apology written into his face.

"I became a fable? So quickly? I should like to read those tales. How interesting! A fable about me!" She laughed at the thought and plucked a blade of high grass. Several of the elves they passed looked at Raya with sidelong glances and thoughts that Eragon sensed were not very nice. "Well, it's good to be back. I will do what I must to bring back the dragons, and the Riders." She said with affirmation.

"Good. You were sorely missed. I myself, have only recently begun digging back into your history. My time grows shorter, white-rider. You would fulfill _two _roles that will become vacant when I am gone." Master Oromis was solemn, but he appeared to have come to terms with the fact that he was dying.

"I sensed you weren't well, Ebrithil. Will you be strong enough to finish the training of Rider Eragon, at least?" Asked Raya, switching places with Eragon. It might have bothered him, but Master Oromis rarely spoke so candidly with Eragon, for he was still a student. Whereas Raya was essentially a fully fledged Rider.

The Rider's stayed on Vroengard until they completed their training, and once accepted into the ranks of the Riders, they were partnered to an existing Rider until their "apprenticeship" was complete. The apprenticeship could take a few years, or a decade. Raya had whizzed through training, and had been welcomed into the fold at a young age. She was an apprentice for a longer time, because Vrael had wanted to ensure the training given to such a young Rider. Ideally, she would have flown with Vrael until she was an adult (approximately 16 years of age). Raya had flown those 8 or so years, and two more, until she was 18, as Vrael's apprentice. Then flown as Vrael's companion for one more year, until the Fall.

"I will. I was dismayed that Eragon couldn't return to Ellesmera this time around, but from what I understand, time is tight, and you must quickly head out for Farthen Dur." Oromis wasn't asking but Raya nodded anyway. "I can hold on for some time, drawing on Glaedr for strength, but still it is not as much time as I'd like."

"My sorrows for you, Ebrithil. The next generation will be missing a fine teacher," responded Raya, sounding appropriately respectful towards Oromis.

"You think the next generation will return so quickly?" asked Oromis, looking skeptically at Raya, and Eragon wondered in that moment, how much did Raya know and what specifically had been Vrael's plan. She grinned at both of them, and nodded.

"Ebrithil, I will not rest until the Emerald Egg has been returned to the Riders. If that means tearing Galbatorix apart myself, then so be it." Raya responded easily to the question, not needing to pause to make up a half-truth, but Eragon still had the inkling that she knew more than she was saying.

"Normally, I would say that is a dangerous task and a very risky mission," said Oromis, still thinking on what Raya has said.

"Ah, but was it not Irnstad Shadeslayer who said 'it is a Riders duty to face dangerous tasks and lead risky missions, for the good of all Alagaesia, for there are few else who know themselves well enough to face what terrifies us all.'" Raya had quoted from her training scrolls, and Eragon himself remembered reading the scroll on Irnstad Shadeslayer, who was the only other Rider (and only other non-elf) to successfully kill a shade, and survive to tell about it.

"Yes, but he also said 'To face danger unprepared is foolishness. Foolishness, for believing oneself to be afraid of nothing.' Though I do not doubt your training, you have recently returned to us, are you sure you are ready to face this danger?" Oromis had gone into teacher-mode. He spoke from the scrolls, discussing with Raya the ups and downs of risking hers and her dragon's life for the rescue of the Emerald Egg. Eragon listened to them, able to follow along, for only the first part. Roran tapped Eragon's shoulder, and he dropped back.

"He's the first elf she hasn't chewed up," Roran whispered to Eragon, glancing at Raya. "She's pretty smart to know all that."

"Yeah, she is. Most of those scrolls are necessary for Riders training, for they were written by the Riders themselves," Eragon explained. "I've read only a small part of the scrolls the two of them have mentioned."

"You can read?" asked Roran, surprised, and Eragon nearly whacked himself on the head. Uncle Garrow had not bothered to teach either Roran or Eragon to do any more than sign their own names. They could do math, but most of it was the kind that involved how much coin was needed for a bushel of apples.

"Yes. Brom taught me to read. First the human script and then the elf script. I've yet to learn dwarf," Eragon muttered to Roran. He seemed somewhat surprised, and Eragon added, "You can learn when we return to the Varden. It's not that hard." Roran nodded.

"I'd like that. You don't know how hard it was seeing your face on a wanted poster, and not being able to read what it said underneath. I had to call Brigid over, and she whispered it to me. Who is Irnstad Shadeslayer? He has the same last name as you, so I'm going to assume he also killed a shade. But what else?" Roran asked, and Eragon animatedly jumped into the story about the only other non-elf dragon rider, to ever kill a shade. It was an interesting story which held them through lunch. Katrina had listened to Eragon's story first, but when Eragon switched to the tale of Laetri the Elf, who was the only other living being, and the only non-rider, to kill a Shade, she turned to listen to Raya and Oromis, who were still discussing the merits and meaning of Valor, honor, pride, and bravery. Eragon wondered vaguely, if she understood anything in their discussion, but it seemed Katrina could follow along, even if she didn't know who Mor'oc of Kerman was.

As the day progressed, Eragon found himself drawn outside. Oromis insisted he had to speak with one of the librarians in Sílthrim, being as the local library was in ownership of a scroll that was not found in Ellesmera and Master Oromis wished to take it back to Ellesmera with him, so he could examine it at length. Raya had gone for a walk up the beach with Katrina. Eragon and Roran had still been chatting about hero-stories when Saphira jumped into Eragon's mind.

_Quickly, Eragon. Up the beach. Tunivor just took off._ Saphira's thought was hurried, and he had a feeling Raya was in trouble. He got up quickly and ran for the door, Roran a few steps behind him. Saphira was already out front and Glaedr was in the sky above her. Eragon and Roran jumped up on Saphira's back and she took off. She landed feet from Glaedr (which for Dragons must have been like inches)… and Eragon and Roran jumped off.

Raya was in the middle of a large group of shouting elves. Eragon tried to keep his mind open, finding it difficult over all the shouting. The dragons roared at the group, but it didn't phase the arguing elves. Katrina's red hair flashed somewhere in the middle, and Eragon pointed at it to Roran. They both delved into the arguing group until they were at the very middle.

"MORE OF THIS HUMAN SCUM!" shouted one elf, noticing Eragon. "How dare they?! Is nothing sacred anymore? The elf-cities are exactly that! ELF cities!! You don't us walking into Farthen Dur!" Eragon brushed roughly past the shouting elf until he was standing back to back with Raya.

"What happened?" He hissed at Raya, who looked very angry, her eyes flashing towards evergreen, and then to leaf green and back again. "I've never seen elves lose their temper like this!"

"They saw me, got mad because I'm a half-ling," she pushed two elves into each other, giving her enough room to draw her blade. "Then they saw Katrina, and got mad because she's human. I'm sure you can fill in the rest." She chopped at one elf's bow, slicing the wood directly in half.

"Switch spots," Eragon said quickly and he found himself face to face with a mob of angry elves.

"ANOTHER HALF-LING! You're all scum! Stealing dragons that belong to a worthy elf rider!" snapped one man in his face, Eragon dodged his fist.

"Where do you disgusting little abominations come from?!" screeched one elf, Eragon was sure was a woman. He took the chance, punched her in the stomach, and sent her flying into the elf who had tried to punch him. He took a breath, drawing Il'hen from its sheath, the diamond blade flashed wickedly in the light. Eragon was glad that, after the fight yesterday, he hadn't unblocked the blade. He didn't want to kill any of the elves, just scare them.

"Back up!" Screamed Raya, putting Katrina between her, Eragon, and Roran (who had both his hammers out). "Move it you whining bunch of ninnies. Go pick a flower or something!" Raya's blade clanged against someone else's.

Roran was not happy, he had been told that elves were relatively peaceful people, and the need to defend himself, against the most superior of fighters was not appealing. "Shove off!" He shouted at an unarmed elf woman who was screeching at him. "Tunivor!" called Roran, "Get Katrina out of here! She's not armed!" The Dragon's massive neck bent over the group and Katrina reached for his face spikes, holding on for dear life. Two people swung a blade at the dragon's neck, one shot an arrow.

Both hit and nothing happened. The swords just sent up sparks, and the arrow hit and fell away, no more useful as a weapon against the dragon as a twig was against a mountain lion. Eragon was going to ask about, but had been forced to bring up Il'hen to protect his own head.

"Do you honestly think that killing us is going to get one of you named a Rider? You'll just kill the dragon too!" Eragon said, trying to sound reasonable. Glaedr was using his tail to clear elves aside, throwing them into the lake, into trees, or just throwing them in general. Tunivor noticing the trick, started tossing them whole into the air, and then whipping them towards the lake.

_Ugh! Eragon, you need to still the whole horde of them! Distract them! _Saphira called into his mind, roaring as someone's stray arrow went through her wing. _THAT HURT! STOP THIS FOOLISHNESS AT ONCE! _The weight of the dragons minds bored down on the elves, but none of them flinched.

"BRISINGR!" said Raya vehemently, her very blade catching fire, and she brought the flaming blade down on another elf's sword, slicing the metal of his blade clean in half. The man dropped the sword and flung himself at Raya. _That's it! _

He reached for Raya's, Tunivor's, Saphira's, Glaedr's and Roran's minds, and urged them to, at his signal, shut their eyes. They agreed, somewhat hesitantly. Tunivor threw another person in the lake, blocking an arrow that had flown towards Katrina's head. _Three. _He counted in his mind.

Saphira pinned an elf beneath her foot, knocking him unconscious, while Raya moved in a whirl of fire. Glaedr had pulled back because someone had ripped a hole the size of a tree stump in his wing. He was roaring and spurting little balls of fire. _Two!_

Katrina had found Raya's bow still attached to Tunivor's saddle. To Eragon's immense surprise, she had managed to pull back the bow string, arrow notched, and send it (relatively accurately) into an elf man's shoulder. "Take that!" she called triumphantly, attempting to notch another arrow on the violently thrashing dragon. _ONE! _

"GARJZLA DU FILÁTINA IET AL IL'HEN!!" bellowed Eragon raising the blade above the group. It exploded into light, and Eragon could hear the elves shriek their pain. Raya nudged his mind to not let the light go too long. "BLOTHR!" Eragon said loudly, stopping the light in the blade. Several elves were on the ground, clutching their eyes and faces. A few others were stumbling around, no doubt from the spots in front of their eyes.

"They won't stay blind for long," said Raya, grabbing his hand, and leading him through the elves, "Roran, go to Tunivor!" she called, and rushed over to Saphira's side. "Weise heil!" she said, over the arrow holes in Glaedr's wings. The Gold Dragon took off immediately, shrieking over the city, seeking out Oromis. Saphira backed up, getting enough space to flap her enormous wings. Eragon healed the few arrow holes that had punctured the tough blue membranes.

_Get on! _Called Saphira, scooping Raya onto her back. Raya practically flew into the saddle, not bothering to strap herself in, simply holding on tightly to Eragon's waist. Saphira threw herself into the air, flapping her wings immediately to get some control over her flight. Tunivor was already above the trees, roaring his angry rage, issuing death threats to anyone who dared send an arrow his way.

Saphira issued a warning burst of flame, setting a pile of random beach trash (sticks, grasses and the like) on fire. Tunivor saw the spot and roared and fire onto the stones of the beach, melting a few of them, but blocking those elves who could see, from crossing normally. Glaedr called them away from the beach. Eragon was shaking. He'd never seen elves act like that.

Glaedr dropped to the ground in a clearing well away from the angry group of elves. Tunivor and Saphira landed shortly after him, each keeping their wings open, should they have to take off again. Eragon leaped to the ground, helping Raya down from Saphira's back. When the turned to look where Glaedr had brought them all down, Eragon felt his heart drop.

Standing next to Glaedr was Oromis. And next to Oromis, was Queen Islanzadí.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Raya and Islanzadi**

Standing next to Glaedr was Oromis. And next to Oromis, was Queen Islanzadí.

"What was their problem?!" asked Katrina, coming rather unsteadily from Tunivor and looking at Eragon. She stopped dead still when she saw the beautiful woman who could only be the Queen of the Elves.

"That is a very good question," said Oromis, looking pointedly at Raya, who looked like someone had poured steel into her spine, and she looked stiff and forced. Her jaw was set in a hard clench and her eyes were unmoving.

"Some decided to voice their concern over the presence of so many humans in the elf cities. I did hope the elves would forgive the breach of secrecy, for we would only be staying the night, and the only view from above would be league upon endless league of foliage." Eragon replied quickly, when he noticed that Raya didn't feel like talking about the mini-battle.

Oromis looked at the Queen, reading her expression like only he could. Islanzadí had not taken her eyes off Raya, and both women looked emotionless, as though testing each others will-power.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," Raya said, in the human tongue, forcing her back to bend, ever so slightly, in a bow. She snapped back into her straight backed posture quickly. "I take it you remember me?" She asked the Queen, her voice frigid, but hollow.

Her majesty nodded. "I do remember you Raya. And you, dragon." She stepped forward, and rather like the gesture she had used with Arya, she spread her arms wide, "Can you forgive, my child?"

Raya jerked backwards, avoiding the Queen's embrace. Someone in the gathering crowd gasped.

"Tell me, Majesty," Raya said, still incredibly formal and cold in her speech, "What is it I am forgiving you for?" Raya determinedly avoided the Queen's touch, looking at her with dead eyes. Eragon could feel the air begin to fill with tension as Islanzadí thought about her answer.

"Dear, lost, Raya. I'm sorry for your suffering." She replied.

"THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT ANSWER!!" shouted Raya, steel echoing like a clang in her ice-cold voice. "I asked you what it is, specifically that you want me to forgive you for!" Her voice was so cold, that Eragon couldn't help but shiver. The Queen, to everyone's immense surprise, did not answer Raya's question.

"Would you like me to tell you? Let me, refresh your memory." Raya stalked up to Islanzadí, standing mere inches from her, an intense breach of protocol in elf rules, but it seemed as though Raya had thrown the Rule book out the window. "I forgive you, for your unseemly and incessant gossip about me, as a child." The words came out in a sharp hiss, "I forgive you, for hating me. I forgive you for calling me 'abomination.' I know you only did that because you wanted your own princess. I forgive you for calling Tunivor an animal, and we forgive you, for the immense slight you gave us, when Tunivor and I became the white-pair." Raya's voice was steadily increasing in volume, but she wasn't yelling. It was just getting louder, so the entire clearing could hear her.

"We will even forgive you, for your vanity and selfishness. For being so self-obsessed, you would forget that the White Rider flew with Vrael, and for forgetting that we were alive. We also forgive you for condemning us to a lifetime, nay two lifetimes of sleep, where we did not see the light of day! And we forgive you for your blatant incompetence and lack of intelligence and cowardice for the past half-century. Is that enough? Or did I forget something?" Raya's voice was cold and hard, and her eyes were dark and unreadable. Eragon took a few steps sideways from the angry woman.

"Maybe you'd like me to forgive you for all those other things you said about my mother, my father, and my family, in front of me?"

"Raya, that will be quite enough." Oromis stepped forward, putting a hand on Raya's shoulder. "Forgive her. In your heart, forgive her." Raya stared at Islanzadí for a moment, and then her shoulders slumped and she softened.

"I forgive you," she said with a sigh. Looking away, and stepping away from the Queen. "But, I sincerely hope, that your experiences as Queen have changed you, Your Majesty." Raya turned her eyes to the ground, and bobbed a curtsy.

"I hope so too. I have wronged you, Raya. You were family, and I neglected you. You were a Rider, and I forgot you." The Queen did not look sorry. Raya had insulted her pride, her dignity, wounded her vanity. The Queen looked ready to continue arguing, perhaps even yelling, at Raya. But she realized that it was either say sorry and move forward with the newly reinstated White Rider, or lose a major alliance with the Riders. She chose the former. "How came you to be alive? I am most interested in knowing what happened to you."

"Easy, I never died." Raya sneered, and Tunivor snorted. The Queen looked frustrated, because she realized that Raya would not be so forthcoming with conversation as she'd hoped. Islanzadí opted for a different approach.

"Greetings to you, White Dragon. You too, are most gratefully welcomed, and your return brings us new hope." The Queen spoke to Tunivor, who snorted a greeting, and pressed his voice upon her mind.

_Greetings, Queen Islanzadí, _Tunivor's rumble was heard throughout the clearing, but he avoided saying anything else to her majesty, until he could pull Raya away from the woman. No doubt, he was privately telling her to control her temper and keep check on her tongue.

"Since Raya is still rather stunned from her ordeal," said Oromis, stepping into the silent void which had formed between Raya and the Queen. "Eragon, will you tell us what happened? Or you Tunivor?"

"Yes, White-hide…" started the Queen.

_Diamondhide.__ My name is Tunivor Diamondhide, and it will serve you to remember that this time around. _Tunivor's comment was a well placed barb and Islanzadí flinched openly. _I will be very bold right now, and I can do that because I am a dragon. The "ordeal" my Rider and her human companion, Katrina, went through disgusts me to no end. I am inclined to fly away from here and never again speak to another elf, for the rest of my life. The hatred, of humans and half-humans and human-Riders, stems from the crown, and specifically, you. This disturbs me, because your subjects imitate you and your court. _

_This group believes that Raya and Eragon are unworthy as Dragon-riders and that they 'stole' the dragons from "better" elf-riders. Worse that that, this group, has lost respect for the dragons themselves. This gives me cause to worry: do the elves return to the thinking which led to Du Fyrn Skulblaka? And if there is such disrespect for dragons, where could it come from? _Tunivor's implication was deep. Islanzadí needed to deal with these 'human-haters' or risk a complete lack of support from the Dragons.

"Diamondhide, Brightscales, I don't know who these elves who so hate the humans are, but I assure they are in no way associated with the crown. The Dragons and their Riders, be they human, elf, or Halfling, are important to us."

_And our human companions who are not Riders? _Asks Saphira, looking at Roran and Katrina, who seemed out of place in the discussion. _What of them? _

"You, your Riders, and your human companions are important. We who are charged with protecting the interests of all the elves would never be so rude, nor so stupid, as to intentionally disrespect the dragons in such a way." Islanzadí's words lightened Eragon's heart.

Saphira's mind privately reached for his, and she pointed something out to Eragon. _Nor would we disrespect the dragons in such a way. She said nothing about disrespecting the Riders, though it is subliminally implied. _

_How very smooth of her. The elves around her have calmed, knowing that they have avoided the eternal enmity of the dragons. Look at Raya! _Eragon looked at the group in general, pointing out Raya to Saphira's keen eyes. He noticed the creased brows and the tight clench of her mouth. He also saw the sorrow behind her eyes. Saphira forced her attention back to the Queen, who had asked the two dragons a question.

_We've been dismissed. _Thought Eragon to himself. _Raya and I have been dismissed. We are no more useful in this discussion than Roran or Katrina or Lunch. _Eragon walked over to Roran, dismayed. Roran shrugged, and walked off to the dwelling where they would be staying, Katrina hot at his heals.

"You'll let me know what happens?" Roran whispered before he left. Eragon nodded, but doubted he'd know all the details, being as her Majesty didn't feel like he was smart enough, or wise enough to comprehend the gravity of the situation at hand. Islanzadí continued talking to the three dragons, introducing various elves as the situation demanded. Oromis walked over to the place where Eragon was standing.

"I take it you noticed Raya's tone with her Majesty?" Oromis said quietly, drawing Eragon to the side: they wouldn't be missed. "As through to provide balance to her strengths as a good ruler and queen, Islanzadi has some rather unbecoming faults. She is easily jealous, painfully vindictive, and vain enough to believe she is perfect."

"Arya mentioned that the elves greatest weakness is their vanity. So did you. But why are you telling me this, Ebrithil?" Eragon spoke equally quietly, leaning against a tree, and checking the area around him for listeners. "You seem to know you are the most naturally beautiful, powerful, graceful, and magical people alive. Anything less than perfection," Eragon tried to remember the exact wording, but Oromis finished the sentence for him.

"Anything less than perfection is scorned. You've hit the proverbial nail on the head." Oromis lifted himself into a low branch, sitting on it, his cane resting on his knee. "How much do you know of Raya's family?"

"More than most, and less than I'd like to." Eragon answered and he knew his answer was too vague for Master Oromis. When he received a pointed look, Eragon answered the question in a way he hoped would leave little to doubt, "I know what her mother is."

"Did she tell you she was mercilessly teased as a child?"

"Not in detail. But it's not hard to imagine," Eragon answered again, feeling horrible. He had been Eragon, son of no-man. He had been teased for not having parents, and Raya had it little better in her society.

"Did she tell you who her main tormentor was?" Oromis asked, trying to gauge how much he needed to tell Eragon.

"No. Are you going to tell me?" Eragon asked. Oromis looked over at Islanzadí. "Are you sure?" Oromis nodded.

"I do not know all of Raya's history. When she was born, I was already a confirmed Rider Elder, and had my own things to do. Whatever I do know is gossip and tales from when I came home to visit my family." Oromis looked at the cane in his hands, following a knot in the wood with his fingertips.

"She was quite the scandal. I remember that much. I also remember that the first time I saw her, she was a baby. I remember, looking into the cradle and seeing those same ivy-colored eyes, and that sweet brown hair. She was a pretty baby. Elf-children aren't ugly. But they are homely until they can control their appearance. But Raya was a beautiful baby girl. Her father, Teodar, was my nephew. My brother's son. He named that little girl, Raya Hjartadorev Tharandurin."

"Strongheart." Eragon translated, "it explains why Dorev chose her."

"Dorev?"

"Her Sword. It was Anurin's blade, Dorev." Eragon explained quickly, bidding Oromis look at the black sheath and deep blue stone in the pommel, visible at Raya's belt. "Forgive me, Ebrithil. Continue."

"Her mother was beautiful. Human or elf would have called her fair. Her name was Riala. She lived with us, in Ellesmera, in our family hall. Some used to complain but that didn't phase Riala. She was a witch, and knew a myriad of ways in which she could amuse herself in our city. She learned our tongue and could sing the trees into the most beautifully shaped bows. Raya's bow is her mother's working. Riala sang the bow, and Teodar worked the metal. The bow is as strong as any of ours, and twice as beautiful."

"Our hall grew to like Riala and our family doted on the baby Raya. The other side of our family, that is to say the ruling side, was not that fond of her. Most of our Royal cousins ignored the baby girl. Except Evandar. He loved making her laugh."

"Islanzadí hadn't had Arya yet?" Eragon asked, though he knew the answer. It was just a confirmation question.

"Not for lack of trying. Islanzadí loved Evandar. She wanted a child more than anything else. But none came. Evandar knew that if none was born, he could technically name any child from either of our two houses as his heir. Conservatives worried that he and Teodar were too close as friends, even though they argued in the Council of Lords. Some of those same Conservatives believed that Evandar might choose Raya as the Princess Royal."

"Islanzadí didn't like that. She didn't like that Evandar enjoyed so much in Raya's company. She wanted her own little princess. But in the meantime, she had to destroy the growing adoration of Raya. She was such a pretty little girl. And Riala was a powerful woman for all she wasn't an elf. Gossip at the time was that Islanzadí had been the first to call Raya an abomination, though she denies it."

"Raya was never an individual to the Queen. She was always, 'that child.' And though she was never openly violent to her, she was mean. Calling her 'it' or the 'byproduct of and unnatural union' or saying that she 'worried' Raya would be weak, half-fair, that she might be deformed by her human blood. Perhaps even retarded. It's horrible, because it was construed as being under the guise of concern for Raya's well being. Many times she said those things right in front of Raya, and denied them when they were mentioned."

"It got really bad at one point, because Islanzadí would join Evandar in his games with Raya. Showering her in flowers or golden rain. Riala saw what was going on, though the rest of the house didn't really care. It hurt her heart, especially after the insults got worse. The pettiness and the cattiness of the court, the subliminal messages, drove Riala quickly and silently mad. She snapped one day and died a month later."

"It hurt Teodar that the court was insulting his daughter and his wife, but he didn't care. He always told Raya that she was a very special child, and that she had to be strong. As soon as Raya's mother went insane, the viper's of our court hissed and whispered that Raya might be as mentally unstable as her mother, perhaps even more so because of the dual nature of her existence. Raya, even as a little girl, had already pulled away from Court.

"She spent hours upon countless hours at the Libraries. By that time, Glaedr and I had sustained our respective injuries, and were acclimating to our "Master" status. Since I was blood kin, I took it upon myself to watch out for her, however indirectly. I deterred those in the Libraries from bothering her. And it was I who pointed her out to Vrael. My brother, her grandfather, showed her how to use a bow and do the Rimgar, at my insistence."

"When White-Tunivor hatched for her, it was I who suggested Raya spend time up with Glaedr and myself. We didn't talk much, but our cave was a refuge for her, where she could avoid the glares of her jealous peers, and the seething bite of Islanzadí. Discredited as a Princess, only to gain standing as a Rider. It infuriated her Majesty. Once Raya rode off with Vrael, Court and Ellesmera calmed."

"I admit, I put Raya out of mind after that. She traveled as Vrael's apprentice for a long time. She greeted me whenever she returned home, but otherwise, I don't know much about the woman she became. When news reached us of Vrael's death, and the coming onslaught of Galbatorix, I did not remember Raya."

"When she didn't return with the body, Teodar was the first to notice. He begged Evandar, but little happened. No one knew anything. Teodar sent the members of his house, those elves who were militarily bound to him, all over the Spine, in search of Raya. Nothing. They either came back empty handed, or died. Evandar needed those troops, and he slowly pulled them away from Teodar, until none were 'able' to go. He begged me to search, but my searches for her and her dragons mind came back fruitless."

"A visiting Rider and his Dragon, told Teodar that, unless the dragon was in a spelled sleep, the only other thing that would explain them not being able to contact Tunivor, was their death. Teodar believed her alive, and demanded that he be permitted to search for his daughters resting place. But as war demanded our attention more and more, one lost Rider demanded our attention less and less. After Teodar and Evandar died, the White Rider became more of a legend, than an actual mission. Some of the stories say she and her dragon rode back to Alaleya, where the elves first came from, where they would wait out the war here, and that she took the wild dragons with her." Oromis looked up at Eragon, finished with his tale. "I want you to understand the source of the tension between Raya and Her Majesty."

"And now she's been found. I solved a mission most wrote off as a legend. The White Rider has returned, but not from Alaleya. Returned at the hands of a half-ling." Eragon pondered the thought, his eyes looking out to the group. "Ebrithil? Where is Raya?"

"Eragon, go find her. One thing I know about her is this: this situation has left her frustrated. She is probably aching to pick a fight with someone. Go, I will deal with the Queen." Oromis stood up and Eragon quickly got to his feet.

"I'll find her. Hopefully she won't have gotten into too much trouble. She's can't have been gone long." Eragon checked that Il'hen was unblocked, and kept the sword unlatched, so it could easily slide out of its sheath.

"One day you must tell me how you found that sword, Eragon. Don't get into trouble." Oromis patted Eragon on the shoulder and Eragon stalked off, looking for Raya. He didn't have to look long. Rather than pick a fight with someone who could hurt her, Raya was on the practice fields. She was alone, save for a lone archer, who had stopped his target practice to watch Raya, who was in the middle of a Sword Pattern Dance. If Eragon guessed correctly, she was doing the "Dance of the White Dragon" which had been invented by the first Eragon.

It involved a lot of butterfly cuts, combined with leaps and high-strikes. Those who were lucky enough to witness the dance said it looked like a dragon in battle, with the blade acting as head, tail, claws, and wings, the Riders body moving so fast that it blurred. Naturally, only those few lucky enough to ride a White Dragon, were taught the dance first. But anyone could learn it, though few bothered. The sword-patterns were ridiculously complex, and it was hard to do, even for the perfect elves. Few knew the dance in its entirety, and even fewer still could do it correctly from start to finish. It was left only to the best of sword-fighters to attempt. Raya, it seemed, could do it.

Eragon turned his attention to the archer, walking up until he stood next to the man. He was smooth skinned, without wrinkles or scars. But his hair and eyes were a pure, storm-cloud gray. Eragon found it odd that someone who physically looked so young, had such gray hair. Not only that, but that an elf would allow their hair to turn gray, what with them being so vain.

"Kvetha Fricaya," Eragon said, turning his attention back to Raya.

"Greetings, Friend" said the gray-haired elf. He was lithe and tall, like all elves, and he leaned on a solid wood bow. "Have you ever seen anything so spectacular?" He motioned toward Raya, who had not noticed either of them.

"Aye, her dragon!" joked Eragon, which caused the elf to look at him.

"Rider Eragon! My apologies, I should greet you properly."

"Nonsense, and distract from the show? No. Greet me properly later. You have already called me friend. Watch her," Eragon turned back to look at Raya. "She is sitja-ebrithil. I doubt she does the dance of the White Dragon lightly."

"Thank you, Shur'tugal. This is the best part. I've seen many attempt it, and all of them end up with a nasty cut, a broken bone, and sore right side." At that moment, Raya leaped high into the air, butterfly cut whirring around her head, giving the impression of a dragon, fluttering its wings. She drove the blade straight toward the ground, striking with fierce accuracy. But rather than landing, Raya whipped her body sideways, kicking out with both legs, and then landing on all fours.

"Beautiful," murmured the elf, "Perfectly executed. I can see why she is Sitja-Ebrithil. I bet no one today can move like that. Why, Eragon himself would have been hard pressed to do better." Raya moved faster and faster, the dark blade, Dorev, a shadowy blur of dark steel. She epitomized the power and grace of the Riders, making Eragon envious of her skill. If he learned even a fraction of that dance, he felt that he might stand a chance of beating Galbatorix.

Raya continued at a rapid pace, the moves blurring so much that, at times, Eragon thought he saw a dragon standing in her spot, and not a half-ling Rider with a sword. Raya made her final move, driving the blade to stand upright in the ground, and using her body to curl around it, much like a dragon folded itself around its Rider. Eragon was stunned speechless.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Dance of the White Dragon**

The elf clapped loudly, "Bravo, White Rider! That was a stunning display!" He moved forward, bowing with his hand twisted over his breast-bone. "Sitja-ebrithil, I envy the person who would learn the sword from you. Eragon, may his soul fly forever free, would have been hard-pressed to do better than you."

"I didn't see anyone on the field when I started," Raya looked surprised and was flushed and breathing heavily. "I don't usually practice that in front of others, and I only perform it in the most highly ceremonial of situations. Forgive me if I interrupted your archery practice."

"You looked beautiful," Eragon blurted out, not censoring his mind or thoughts. He mentally kicked himself, knowing Saphira would scold him for that sort of talk. "What I mean to say is, your sword work was very beautiful, and you were very graceful." He noticed Raya's flush deepen and her smile return, when Eragon complimented her.

"Both of you honor me greatly, thank you." She said it so demurely, so politely, that Eragon would have never said that this was the same Raya who had just so rudely yelled at Islanzadí.

"You must have learned from a very great master," said the gray-haired elf, watching as Raya neatly put Dorev back in its sheath. "Where are my manners? I am Dunspar, son of Jans. Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Jans, who rode Kabadahía the Brown? His son?"

"The one and only. I see you knew my father." Answered Jans easily. Eragon was surprised, he'd been standing next to a Rider's son and not even known it.

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjartr onr. Tunivor was sired by Kabadahía, out of Opalia the Fierce. He was always interested in my dragon. I would've sworn your father was human, and I didn't know he had a son." Raya said quickly, explaining how she knew Jans.

"He was human. My mother was an elf, you know how quickly human Riders adapted to elf culture. But tell me, who was your sword master? I would dearly love to know." Dunspar, it appeared, really wanted to talk combat with Raya. Politics could wait.

"Vrael himself. He made me practice every day. When he wasn't on his guard, I could best him. But that wasn't very often. He taught me the Dance of the White Dragon. He was going to have us, Tunivor and myself, perform it for the Agaeti Blodhren, but disaster struck in the Beor's and we couldn't be there for the ceremony." She observed the elf-man under her lashes, taking in the gray hair, pulled neatly into a pony-tail. The striking gray eyes only accented by his gray hair.

He was lithe and tall, fit like all elves were. Dunspar carried a simple brown bow, made of unadorned and un-carved ash. He looked like the kind of man who did not like frill and frippery. His jewelry was simple, a solid silver ring around his thumb, and a plain hoop in one ear. His clothes were unadorned as well, in solid and somber colors, which only drew the attention back up to his face and his startling gray eyes.

"VRAEL! My goodness, I didn't know Vrael had any students after Galbatorix." Dunspar took in Raya's appearance as well, noting the brown hair. When his eyes passed over her hips and breasts Eragon felt a surge of jealousy rise up in him. _How dare he look at her like that? Like she's just a piece of meat on a hook! _

Raya didn't seem perturbed. She smiled back at Dunspar, not in the least phased by the half-elf's appreciative looks. In fact, she looked rather pleased, transferring her weight to one leg, so that the opposite hip was propped at a seductive angle. "That's a solid bow you have," Raya said sweetly, extending a hand, and he gave it over to her.

"Ash. My mother sang it for my father before I was born. He carried it proudly, giving it to me before he died." Dunspar watched as Raya expertly handled the wooden bow.

"Your mother is quite powerful. Ash is a hard wood to sing. My mother sang mine from a rosewood tree. My father decorated it. But alas, it is with Tunivor, and I cannot show it to you. This is a fine bow." She handed it back and Eragon noticed Dunspar's hand take the bow, just below where Raya's hand held it. They touched just a little too long for Eragon's liking.

"I should go back to my archery. Normally, I practice late in the evening or early in the day, when no one is on the training fields. But with everyone admiring the dragons, I figured I'd take the opportunity to practice during the day." Dunspar gestured toward the target, which had three arrows protruding from it.

"They may adore the dragons, but they hate their Riders," grumbled Eragon, sincerely considering leaving Dunspar and Raya to talk, and just tell Master Oromis that he couldn't find her.

"Someone said that? That they hate the Riders?" Dunspar looked angry, turning his attention to Eragon. "Who? Was it a large group, or just one individual?"

"A large group. We just did battle with them. Raya and Katrina were walking, and they attacked. When Roran and I came to help, all I gathered was that they didn't like having so many 'humans' in an elf city. They even said that we had 'stolen' the dragons from much worthier elf candidates." Eragon answered, intrigued as to why Dunspar might care.

"This is ridiculous. They've been attacking viciously since you and Saphira first passed by Sílthrim, and anything even remotely human bothers them. Your language, your clothes, your appearance, everything. They've attacked me several times. Alone, I'm more than able to handle them, but I was mobbed twice. I dyed my hair so I was harder to recognize. The brown gave me away too easily" Dunspar spat on the ground, cursing the elves who were so disrespectful of the humans.

"I was going to ask how old does an elf have to be for their hair to turn gray…" Eragon said aloud, in a teasing way, hoping Dunspar wouldn't take offense.

"Well, I'm about 200 years old. I stopped counting after 125. But I wanted it gray. That at least isn't so horrible amongst the elves. The brown was a far more tell-tale sign." Dunspar wasn't offended, and he put his bow away, calling his arrows to himself.

"Raya, Oromis told me to come get you. You shouldn't have just walked off like that." Eragon said, gesturing toward the clearing where the dragons were talking to the Queen. Raya's face darkened.

"What does it matter? She probably didn't even notice we were gone. Our dragons are certainly smarter and more interesting than we are." Raya glowered in that direction. But started walking anyway when Eragon motioned for her to come. She called Dunspar with them with a wave, and he loped alongside them.

When they arrived, a crowd had gathered. Some of the faces, Eragon recognized, were from the group that had attacked Raya, and Eragon felt himself get tense. Dunspar and Raya looked equally as stiff. Islanzadí was talking vehemently with Oromis and the dragons, occasionally waving toward the crowd around her.

"I cannot change my people's personal beliefs regarding some humans!" She argued with Oromis, "And I am hard pressed to believe that they attacked two Riders!"

"They aren't just "some humans"" Eragon said loudly, raising his voice as he walked over. "Roran and Katrina are my _family. _Roran, is as close to a brother as I have. By disrespecting him, they are disrespecting me. And apart from the fact that they are disrespecting me, as a person, they are disrespecting my judgment as a Rider. The elves cannot afford to isolate a Rider's family." Eragon argued calmly, walking up to stand at Saphira's side.

"You all know very well that Rider's come in families," said Dunspar leaving Raya's side to stand in the middle of the group. "You risk all the Rider's and all our futures, when you push him away. Few Riders had children. Eragon may not have a son, but Roran might. In fact, Roran is more likely to have children. What do you think behavior like this will amount to? Him returning to the Varden with an extreme dislike of the elves, and no desire to be even remotely attached to the Riders, because they are so mistreated."

"When elves behave this way, they are being selfish. If we lose the humans as allies, whether they are Rider's or not, we have less and less of a chance of defeating Galbatorix. By isolating them, by disrespecting them, we lose any potential the future has to offer." Raya added her bit, standing nearby Tunivor's head.

"THEN GOOD RIDDANCE!" Shouted a man from the crowd, walking forward with an aggressive look on his face. "Everyone knows humans are not meant to be Riders! They are too stupid, too ugly, and take far too long to train. The dragons should only have been given choice from the elves!" He faced off against Dunspar, but Eragon and Raya were quickly in the middle of the group. Her majesty had quietly drawn back.

"Who are you to decide that!?" Raya said back, her vehemence and anger already flaring behind her eyes. "Ever since Anurin ceded from the elves, the Rider's have been under their own control. You cannot tell US who is worthy to be a Rider: you aren't one." Raya's hand was already on her sword hilt.

"Well if the Rider's had only chosen from elves, Galbatorix would never have come to power, and we wouldn't even be in this mess" the elf argued back smugly, noticing how quickly Raya's hand had reached for her sword.

"Non-sense! He'd have been called to Hurudel's egg! It was his Wyrd to become a Rider. Who controlled the Rider's would have made no difference!" Raya argued back. Dunspar and Eragon let her face off against the elf, taking a step back, but following the argument carefully.

"He wouldn't have made it through Du Weldenvarden!" the elf argued back.

"Ignorance!" Dunspar said, jumping forward to support Raya. "You don't understand the intensity of the bond between Dragon and Rider. My father always loved his dragon before he loved my mother or me. They are called to each other. The Rider could no more deny the pull of his dragons egg, than they could deny their own souls! Everyone knows this!" Dunspar argued with equal vehemence.

"The magic of the Agaeti Blodhren doesn't limit _who_ can be a Rider. Simply how those involved in the pact are affected." Eragon jumped forward as well. "Just because the elves were the ones who initiated the Blood-Oath arrangement, doesn't mean that humans couldn't be picked for the Rider's eggs. Irnstad was called to his dragon, long before humans were added to the Blood Oath." Eragon called on the only other non-elf in history to bear the name Shadeslayer.

"The magic of the blood oath doesn't limit the pool of candidates. What the blood oath does is limit the effects of the dragons combined power on the races. Their downfall is our downfall. It's a safety measure installed after Du Fyrn Skulblaka. The magic between dragon and Rider is not limited to the Agaeti Blodhren, nor to whom politically controls the Riders," Raya said her bit, enforcing what Eragon said. The elf was joined by two more companions, one woman and another man.

"Then explain how, when the elves controlled the Rider's only elves were Riders." Said the woman, snapping forcefully at Raya.

"Weren't you listening?!" Asked Eragon. "Irnstad Shadeslayer was a human, who became a Rider, while the Rider's were still under elf control, and before the humans were added to the blood oath."

"By your reasoning, Eragon, Oromis and I all belong to Galbatorix!" Raya said in a voice that was low and cold. The elf woman drew back from Raya. "He owns all of Alagaesia, he has three dragons in his control, so that means, he owns the future of the Rider's and from here on out, Eragon and I should serve him, and all the Rider's will be human. Do I look like I belong to anyone? Do I look like someone who will ride for Galbatorix? Your ignorance and racism disgusts me."

"Your humanity disgusts me!" shouted the elf who had first walked forward to argue with Dunspar. "All three of you are half-lings. It's disgusting. Being half-elf, half animal. Filthy little brown-haired monsters."

"Our 'humanity' is much more useful to the future of Alagaesia than your arrogance, ignorance, or racism." Dunspar said coldly, his eyes flashing like Raya's tended to do. Eragon wondered if, when he was angry, is eyes flashed like that.

_ENOUGH! _Glaedr growled, impressing his mind upon everyone in the clearing.

"Stay out of it dragon." Said the elf who had started the fight. "You are only more animal than they are. All of you are."

_That will be quite enough! You have insulted my Rider, you have insulted our companions, and you insult me. You elves would do well to apologize immediately if you wish to keep your skins from becoming the texture of fried chicken. _Saphira had pushed her way forward, baring her teeth at the elves.

"You don't scare us, Blue-Dragon. You may be big, but you are still just an animal" Said the woman, snapping fiercely at Saphira. Saphira growled audibly.

_An animal with very sharp teeth, and much more natural cunning than any elf._ Saphira said with a mental snap.

"An animal nonetheless. I could take you on." Said the she-elf, fingering her sword.

_Big words for one so tiny. I'd like to see you try. _Saphira growled her challenge.

_Not so fast. She may be an elf, but it would be unfair for her to fight a yearling. I'm more her age. I trust you have no qualms fighting me? _Tunivor pushed Saphira aside and stuck his face into the three elves.

Saphira rumbled her displeasure at being pushed aside. Eragon felt the private comment pass between the two dragons. Tunivor's mind was a force to be reckoned with, _Don't take that tone with me, Brightscales. They insulted my Rider, first. You can have your pick when I am finished._

"Big dragons, Little dragons. It doesn't matter. You are still just animals. The elves could hunt and kill you before, and we can do it now." The lead elf challenged Tunivor, drawing his blade.

_Last chance. Apologize and mean it. Or I shall be forced to eat you. _Tunivor growled at the elf.

"You can't eat us. The Agaeti Blodhren prohibits you from killing the elves at the risk of endangering your own species," the elf taunts, rubbing the Blood-oath in the dragons nose.

_Take a good look around. There are only five living dragons in the world. Even less eggs. Killing and Eating 20 elves who are useless and enjoy picking fights really can't hurt us. The worst that it will do is kill off Thorn or Shruikan. Now, APOLOGIZE! _

"I'll fight you first!" shouts the elf, running toward Tunivor, with his blade drawn, and striking at the dragons sensitive nose. Several people cried out, Eragon included.

Nothing happened.

The blade, which should have sunk deep into the sensitive skin around a dragons nose, skipped off as though it had just been a stick, and not an elf sharpened blade. The only effect the sword had on the giant dragon was that it produced a set of sparks, and nothing else. Tunivor chuckled.

_As I was saying, _Tunivor took the moment where the elf stood, sword limp, and stunned speechless to snap the elf up into his mouth, dislodging the sword so that it fell with a clatter to the floor. In that moment the crowd gasped. _It will take me all of ten seconds to chew you up and swallow you. And a further 10 minutes to catch and eat your friends. _

A muffled scream of "let me out!!" issued from Tunivor's mouth

"Let him out, you beast!" Screamed the elf woman, turning on Raya, when her fists had no effect on Tunivor.

_No more of this 'we-hate-humans' nonsense. Give your binding word, and I will spit the disgusting thing out._

"We are entitled to our opinions!" shouted the woman.

_Your opinions are racist and ignorant. They've been proven wrong. They cause problems and endanger all the races, including your own. Apologize._

"I repeat, we are entitled to our own opinions! You are only enforcing the belief that dragons are just animals!" Shrieked the elf woman, pounding on the dragons nose.

_Very well, down the hatch. _Tunivor lifted his head, straightening his neck, so he could swallow the elf in his mouth.

"NO!!" shrieked the elf inside. "I'm sorry!!"

_What was that? You're Polly? _Tunivor opened his mouth a crack, so the elf was visible behind his teeth.

"I'm sorry! You're right! The dragons are special and equally as powerful as any elf. Those who are bonded to them, human, elf, or half-ling, are just as important as any King or Queen. More so! I apologize for insulting them!" The man was shouting, on the verge of crying from fear of being eaten.

_Will you think this when I spit you out? _Tunivor asked.

"Yes! Please don't eat me. Everyone should apologize. I disband the group I formed. I bid them all apologize to the dragons and their Riders. Saphira and Eragon have long been called our Last Hope. If the 'last hope' of the elves is a human rider, than we as elves must have done something wrong. Forgive us?" The man looked at Eragon and then at Raya.

Raya nodded, then looked out to the group at large, her eyes asking them the question. The woman who had challenged Tunivor glared at Raya. Then looked at Eragon. Eragon hadn't noticed much of the crowd, he had been worried that Tunivor would indeed eat the idiot elf in his mouth. When the elf woman saw that Eragon, human Eragon, was worried for the elf in Tunivor's mouth, and his concern showed in his eyes. Expressive, brown, human, eyes. She sensed Eragon's humanity, not as a measure of him being more or less HUMAN, than anyone in the clearing. But of him being more HUMANE.

_Your humanity will draw the men of Alagaesia to you: elf, dwarf, and human alike. I think I finally get it. Not how human I am, but how humane. That's what people hate about Galbatorix: he doesn't care for people. I do. _

"I'm sorry." The elf-woman whispered, looking at Eragon and then at Raya. "You are our last hope. Both of you. It was foolish to attack and insult you. Accept our apology, and extend it to you, your human companions, and to you, Dunspar." The elves behind her murmured their own apologies. Eragon felt their minds, which were still open to receive the dragons words, and there was sincerity there. Eragon touched Raya's mind.

_If you don't accept their apology, feel it. _He told her privately, feeling Raya's mind expand. Eragon was surprised at how much of the surroundings Raya's mind could take in: she felt the minds of all of Sílthrim around her. She acquiesced and patted Tunivor's side.

"Let him down, my heart. If you accidentally sneeze, he'll roast." Tunivor brought his head down, listening to his Rider's wishes. When he placed his head on the ground, he opened his maw and the elf clambered out, careful to avoid the sharp teeth. He shook violently from the encounter. Elves weren't immortal, they could die. And this elf almost had.

"Thank you," he trembled, flinching when Tunivor snorted. "I think I'll go home now." His friends took him home, dispersing quickly before Tunivor thought about eating them.

"Would Tunivor have really eaten him?" Eragon asks Raya, as the elf leaves, escorted by his friends.

"He did it last time. A word to the wise, Eragon: never call a dragon's bluff. They may surprise you." Raya turned her attention back to her dragon. "Right?"

_Quite. Now, if we can please return our attention to the politics at hand. We've been in Sílthrim all day, and I am loathe to waste precious time. _

"This would be my cue to leave," Dunspar whispers to Raya and Eragon. "It was very nice meeting you Rider Eragon," Dunspar says with a bow. He looks at Raya, taking her hand in his. "Sitja-ebrithil, it would be an honor to my mother and me if you and your companions could stop by for a meal tomorrow. Lunch, or perhaps, Dinner?" Dunspar placed a kiss on Raya's fingertips. "She loves hearing stories about my father when he was doing Rider-ly things."

"It would be a pleasure. Perhaps a late lunch?" Raya said with a bow, barely hiding her smile. Eragon didn't like Dunspar's tone, but mentally told himself to stop it.

"The Dragons are, of course, more than welcome." Dunspar says, looking at Tunivor, who has a sour look on his face. "If they wish."

_Indeed. You are man worth being watched, Dunspar. As the son of a Rider, you may be a dragon-rider in your own right. _Tunivor said with a sniff, as though he thought maybe not.

"Oh, everyone thought that. They kept pushing Saphira's egg at me. The most she did was wiggle." Dunspar laughed. "I'm no more a Rider than you are a gold-fish."

"You just haven't found the right Dragon." Raya says, a gleam playing in her green eyes. "Peace, Dunspar, times change." Dunspar shrugs and, waving good-bye to those who did remain in the clearing, leaves in the direction of the lake.

_Raya, what do you know? _Eragon asks her privately.

_Much. _Raya answers cryptically. _More than many, less than some. _

_Do you really think Dunspar is meant to be a Rider? _

_It's possible. Eragon, there is something about Sílthrim that calls to the Riders. Did you notice it? It's probably why Dunspar has stayed all this time. _Raya turns her attention to Islanzadí.

"To begin," Islanzadí says, finally coming forward. "I want a full account of what happened to you when you disappeared, and I want to know why Vrael thought it necessary to hide you away in a mountain. You also have to tell us what were Vrael's plans, what mission did he set to you. And then we'll need to know why you went to Edoc'sil, Eragon." The Queen's manner was imperious and Eragon could see the frown building on Raya's face.

"Your Majesty," Master Oromis said quietly, "Apart from Raya's missive from Vrael, the past is a story that can be saved for later. We must talk about the future. Surely, you know from your scrying, that the dwarves chose a new King? We must talk about that." Oromis had noticed Raya's look.

"You will tell us what was your missive from Vrael," commands the Queen, looking at Tunivor, bypassing Raya completely.

_Some people just don't learn._ Eragon told Saphira privately.

_I think Tunivor and I can fix that. _Saphira tells him, and then reaches for the male dragons mind. She reaches for Glaedr as well, and both males turn to look at her while Saphira explains something to them. They nod affirmatively.

"Raya, your dragon isn't answering me." The Queen says with an imperious look at Raya. A game of wills is at play. Eragon pitied the Queen, for nothing alive could match a dragons willpower.

_Play along, _Saphira said into Eragon's mind. _Now, speak for me. _Eragon melded his mind to Saphira's, she would do the thinking, but Eragon's voice would do the speaking. It was awkward, for he knew his voice would be deeper, and that it would rasp and rumble much in the same way Saphira's 'voice' did.

"_Tunivor, Glaedr, and I have come to an agreement."_ Said the voice of Eragon-Saphira. _"The elves, it seem, have forgotten what it is like to deal with dragons. We have let you into our minds, and in the process you have forgotten the purpose of the Riders. Eragon will be my voice, and I will only speak through him. You must direct your questions to him." _

"That's even more of a waste of time," said the Queen, looking stunned at Saphira. "Why do you do this?" Saphira didn't answer. When the Queen looked at Tunivor and Glaedr, they gave her a confused look.

"_We told you: we will only speak through our Riders. You do not openly insult them, but thrice you have ignored Raya and Eragon, which is an insult to their persons," _said Saphira-Eragon, _"You insult them and you insult us. Until you—and all the elves—learn to give Eragon and Raya the proper respect, the dragons will not speak directly to you. It is time you remembered what it was like to speak to the Dragon's of old. Those who did not welcome you into their minds so willingly." _

"_You have forced us to this." _Said the voice of Tunivor-Raya. It was odd for Eragon, for the dragon almost completely took over Raya's voice box, he lived so easily within her mind. Raya's voice was naturally much lower, in a sweet alto. But with Tunivor, she almost didn't sound like a woman at all—ending up with what was the equivalent of a man's baritone. Her voice didn't rasp nearly as much as Eragon's did, but it still hissed on the 's. _"We would rather not do this. Now I believe you had a question for Raya, concerning Vrael?" _Eragon noticed that when she spoke for Tunivor, her eyes were almost entirely white, the iris shrinking to a tiny slit.

"What missive was set to you by Vrael?" Queen Islanzadí gave Raya a look Eragon recognized: he had seen that same look of intense anger on Arya's face whenever someone mentioned Durza.

"I'm afraid we cannot tell you that," Raya said, her eyes switching back to green. "That missive is for the Riders to know."

"Than I shall like to know what this missive is," Master Oromis said, glaring at Raya. She looked into his eyes, her gaze intense, communicating a message that could only be understood between the two of them. Eragon was stunned when, right before his eyes, Raya's iris turned black, then shrank to the dragon's slit.

"_You will forgive us, Ebrithil. But we cannot speak that mission aloud, just yet." _

Oromis opened his mouth and found it hard to speak for a moment. When his voice came it was in a dragon's rasp: Glaedr. _"How safe?" _

"_Safer than a dragons jaws." _Tunivor-Raya said even more cryptically. Eragon's head hurt, and Saphira's confusion reverberated across their mental link.

"Very well. If you cannot tell us Vrael's missive. How came you to be in Edoc'sil?" Asked the Queen, interrupting the two dragons. "Or is that privy information as well?"

"No that's not privileged: but it is tedious, because we need to talk about the future. Dwarves, Varden, Galbatorix, and the like." Said Eragon, hoping to shock Raya and Oromis back to the present. They looked at him, their eyes switching back to normal. Eragon was unnerved, because he knew his eyes must be doing the same thing whenever Saphira spoke through him.

"Very well. Eragon, I don't know how long it will take you to reach the dwarves, but once a new king is decided, you will let me know. Also, I don't like the two of you traveling with two humans. As capable as Roran is, he has no magic. I would like to send three members of the Vinr Alfakyn with you."

"That's unnecessary," Eragon said, "Raya and I can both do magic."

"I'm going to have to agree with her Majesty here: Raya is the only full Rider, and her strength is still returning. And you have not completed your training. I am going to suggest that the Vinr Alfakyn fly with you as well." Master Oromis commanded Eragon, as his Master. And looked at Raya, expecting her to object.

"Very well," she said, with a very casual and lazy attitude. "Four people is not a lot for Tunivor, at least I don't think. But they will learn to fly as I do. Or they can meet us in Farthen Dur." Raya shrugged as though not perturbed by the addition of three more travelers.

"After the dwarves, you will no doubt return to the Varden?" Oromis asked Eragon.

"_They move on Cithrí soon after. We must be there. We will lead the charge towards Uru'baen." _Replied Saphira-Eragon.

"Is that wise? It is dangerous to make any moves on Uru'baen right now." Said Queen Islanzadí, "My forces have yet to take Gil'ead." She looked at Eragon, and he couldn't help but feel like finally, something was sticking to the Queen.

"_Than they must move faster. We intend to surprise Galbatorix in Uru'baen, not kill him. Not just yet anyway." _Said Saphira, smiling a dragon smile which showed all her teeth. _"That last egg is ours. If we can surprise Shruikan and keep Thorn busy, then we might just get it." _

"_That's too risky, Bjartskular."_ Said the voice of Glaedr. _"You are too important to lose." _

"_Shruikan deserves to be freed. And that Egg is ours, by right." _Tunivor repeated Saphira's words. Glaedr and Oromis turned to look at the two of them. _"You look at me in surprise. I meant what I said: Shruikan's true Rider died. His soul is being kept here by black magic. It deserves to be freed."_

"How exactly do you intend to steal the last egg?" asked Islanzadí, intrigued.

"We'll figure something out," said Raya, leaning back. "Shruikan is Galbatorix's weak spot. And Galbatorix's hold on Thorn and Murtagh is not as strong as he'd like." She looked smug, as though figuring something out, and she leaned into her dragons side, comfortable.

"Very well, we leave that to you. Should you return with the egg, will you give it to the Varden or the elves?" asked Islanzadí, looking first at Raya, and then at Eragon.

Eragon looked at Raya, to see how she would jump on this. Raya looked placidly at him. _Well, what do you think? _Eragon asked her mind.

_You're asking me? _Raya said inquisitively. _You are the future leader of the Riders, you tell me. I can only give my opinion. _

_**I am the future what? **__You are the one with all the power, and a tutelage under Vrael. _Eragon argued with her for a moment.

_This is not my time, Eragon. I can provide advice, opinion, counsel, and the like. But I was not trained to take over as the leader of the Riders. I'm supposed to bring them back, not lead them. That is YOUR job. So make a decision o' leader. And I will give my opinion. _Raya was not changing her mind, and Eragon thought about the prospect of being the future leader of the Dragon-riders.

_For now, can we be co-leaders? _Eragon asked her mind and Raya nodded. _Very well, then I will propose that, should we find the emerald egg, we will go to the elves, where I can complete my training once and for all. And after six months assisting the elves side, we will fly the egg to the Varden, if it hasn't yet hatched. _

_And if the egg hatches at the Varden? Are you prepared to become the master?_ Raya asked an excellent question, putting Eragon off guard.

_I was rather hoping the elder Rider, that is to say you, would do that. _Eragon said slyly, realizing that Raya still thought him the leader.

_Were you? Very well. May I make a suggestion? _

_By all means. _Said Eragon.

_Tell the queen that you will do as you've just suggested, and add a clause that if any more eggs are found, they will be alternated, so no group has two. _Raya said it and Eragon wondered where she was planning to find more eggs.

_Raya, will you tell me your missive from Vrael? _

_Not now. But say it anyway. If Saphira mates, we might have two, and we wouldn't want to be unfair. The training of the other Rider we will handle when that happens. But say that 'the Riders' are prepared to do what they must to train the last Rider, should he be human. Which, according to your brother Murtagh, may just come to pass. _

_Very well. I have heard your counsel, and I agree with you. I shall tell them as you have suggested. _Eragon pulled away from her mind, and looked up at Saphira. _What do you think? _

_I think that what you have just done is very wise, and on the topic of the last egg, or eggs, I agree with Raya. Tell the Queen. And ask if you can have dinner brought around, you're hungry. _

_Yes, mother. _Eragon teased and Saphira nudged him. Eragon looked out at the Queen, telling her, in very precise words, "When the last egg is retrieved, Saphira and I will return to Ellesmera with it, so that we may complete our training. We will fight with the elves for six months, and after that, we will again take the egg into our guardianship, and fly it to the Varden. Should the egg hatch for a human, which it might do since Saphira and Thorn both hatched for humans, we Riders are prepared to do everything in our power to train that person. Raya will learn what she must to become the next Master and teacher, and I will act as Leader." Queen Islanzadí looked surprised at the formal intricacy of Eragon's answer.

"Should another egg happen to come into existence, and the Emerald Egg still hasn't hatched, then the two eggs will alternate, with neither group of people having two eggs at any one point in time. Should there be two eggs, Raya and I will split up, with the intent that one Elder Rider will be with each egg, in case it hatches." Eragon looked at Raya for confirmation. She nodded with a sly grin.

Islanzadí looked surprised and her eyes darted between Eragon and Raya. Oromis looked immensely pleased, being as Eragon had just made a very wise decision, and gave quite an elaborate plan. He was already acting like the leader of the Riders. "Well, that's good to know. I think the elves can agree to that. Now, I have a missive for Nasuada,"

"Can that wait? Saphira and I think that a meal is in order before we continue." Eragon said, looking at Saphira, who nodded. Islanzadí stood up, clapping her hands, ordering a table with food be brought out to them.

_How did I do? _Eragon asked Saphira.

_Very good, little one._


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Lake Ardwen**

After getting dinner, Eragon talked battle plans with Islanzadí. Since he and Saphira had been at the briefings with Nasuada, Eragon was the only one with the knowledge enough to help coordinate tactics. Islanzadí sat through his explanations, offering probabilities should something change the circumstances and they had to change plans quickly. Saphira did most of the remembering, since Eragon's head was already too full to remember anything more.

The Queen, for all she'd been told not to worry about the past, was not to be deterred from getting the answers she wanted: she wouldn't let Raya or Eragon go until her maelstrom of questions had been answered. They answered what they could, Eragon explaining his dream and the recovery of Raya, with some input from her. When the Queen had finally let them go, Eragon and Raya were so tired that they could barely stand.

The dwelling they had been given was an old apple tree that had been sung into a very low annex, attached to the house of the town leader. There were several such annexes, and her majesty would be staying in one that was as far away from the dragons and their Riders as was possible to be. Since the town leader lived near the lake, he had given them an annex-tree-house that viewed and opened to the water. The humans, however, had to be inside and the dragons, outside.

Inside, all their belongings had been unceremoniously dumped onto the floor, which elicited a series of growls and murmured curses from Raya. She made sure her bow was okay, swearing when she noticed that several of her arrows had broken. Eragons things were fine, and he noticed that Rorans and Katrina's belongings were nowhere in sight.

He peeked into one of the bedrooms and saw Roran and Katrina asleep on the bed. To Eragon's keen eye, she had been crying, no doubt because of all the mean things that had been said today. Eragon battled himself mentally, wondering if he should wake Roran, so that the two women could sleep in the same room.

"Don't wake them," Raya whispered in his ear, making Eragon twitch. "Will it kill you to share with me for the night?"

"I don't have any qualms about it," Eragon whispered, shutting the door to Roran's room, so they wouldn't be heard. "But what about, you know, your umm," Eragon looked at the bedroom door uncomfortably. "Honor."

Raya gave him a blank look, as though wondering if he was serious. She shook her head and ruffled his hair. "Let me tell you something. Women were rarely ever Riders, which in itself is beyond me because we're much better than our male counterparts." She was teasing him, and Eragon scowled at her. "The point I'm trying to make is that, those woman who became Riders were often "criticized" for being overly promiscuous."

"Really?" Eragon asked, wondering was it an effect of the dragons, or simply more dirty gossip, like the kind usually said about women warriors.

"Well, take me for example. I was left alone while I was a girl. But the second I, ahem, 'developed,' it was assumed that I'd slept with every single one of my training masters, flying companions, and even Vrael, who was my master." Raya explained, not in the least bit vicious about the subject of gossip. "It was nasty, but anyone who knew me, knew exactly how many men had been in my bed, and that none of them were my masters." She picked up her traveling bag, checking the contents inside to make sure they weren't broken. "For the record, I've only ever had two men share my bed: one was a Rider, and one wasn't. Neither was Vrael."

"Understood," Eragon said, trying to control the flush working its way quickly into his cheeks. He hadn't 'slept' with anyone. "Still, if you'd rather people didn't gossip," Eragon looked at the floor in the living room.

"People gossip about the activities that men and women do in bed together, more than they gossip about anything else. Your worry for my honor is touching, but futile and unnecessary." Raya picked up Eragons bag, tossing it to him. "Though I commend you on trying to do that which is honorable and chivalrous."

"Thanks." Eragon said, watching Raya walk into the last room. He waited a few minutes, pondering how long it would take Raya to change and get into the bed. When he entered, Raya had the covers pulled up to her chin. Checking to make sure she wasn't watching him, Eragon stripped then slipped into a pair of loose leggings. He rarely ever slept with a shirt on, finding them too constricting when rolling over in the middle of the night.

He managed to climb into bed without jostling Raya, and he didn't see any part of her when he lifted the covers. He also managed to keep a good arms length of distance between them, and when he turned to say good-night she was already asleep. "Good night" he said with a grumble, even though she probably didn't hear him.

"Safe dreams, Eragon" she mumbled through the blankets, which lifted his heart somewhat. Eragon was awake for a while, feeling the world around him already drifting into sleep. He felt Raya's consciousness slow, and then he too went to sleep.

He was jolted awake several hours later by someone in distress. It took his sleep fogged brain a minute to realize that it was Raya. He extended his mind, and realized that Raya was deep asleep, and that she was having a nightmare. It was odd, because Raya had slept for a century, surely she didn't need to sleep now?

She clutched the sheets, her knuckles turning white, and her brow was creased with worry. She looked absolutely terrified. Eragon sat up, scooting over to Raya's side to shake her awake. Just as he did, Raya jerked awake, and leapt of the bed with a strangled cry of "TUNIVOR!" She ran for the window, checking for the dragons presence.

The dragon was outside and she reached for him, petting his scales. She breathed heavily, wide-eyed, and leaned her forehead into the sill. Eragon stood up and came up to stand behind her, placing a hand at the small of her back.

"He's alright," Eragon whispered, "See, he's right outside." Raya nodded as Eragon talked, petting the dragons scales. "Bad-dream?" Eragon asked quietly, and Raya nodded again.

"I'm a ninny," she replied, placing a hand more solidly on Tunivor's nose. "I can't sleep without him. He's always been there. I've spent more years with him than without him." She whispered quietly.

"I know how that feels. It's different because I lived sixteen years of my life without Saphira, and now she's here. But I can't live without her." Eragon placed a hand on the white dragons nose, just inches above hers. "He's alright and you are tired."

_Eragon, _Tunivor said, contacting his mind privately, _all this politics has reminded Raya of her father. So much talk is mentally exhausting on someone whose memories of politics are painful ones. Get her back to sleep. _

"Come on, back to sleep," Eragon said, lightly tugging her away from the window. She didn't budge. "Try to sleep inside. If you can't you can go outside and sleep with Tunivor." She nodded and let Eragon lead her back to bed. He tucked her in, bringing the blankets right up to her shoulders.

She took her hand out and laid it against Eragon's cheek, looking him in the eye. Eragon felt the intensity of her gaze, though it was dark and he couldn't read her expression. She patted his cheek, running her hand down his neck and into the groove where his neck ended and his shoulder began. She didn't say anything, just gave his shoulder a squeeze and pulled the covers up again. When she sighed and closed her eyes again, Eragon exhaled quietly.

_She is used to my warmth and my mind, _Tunivor told him, his eye looking through the window at the sleeping form of Raya. _Go to sleep, Eragon. You are tired as well, and I can protect her mind and her dreams for now. I still have little need to sleep. _Eragon agreed with the dragon and climbed into his own side of the bed. He watched Raya sleep for a few minutes, worrying about her.

She was as frail as a child whenever she was surrounded by elves or away from the dragon which had given her an identity. Her quarrelsome nature was defensive mechanism to protect her from the hurts of the world. But when she was alone she was lonely on top of defenseless. He scooted over to her side.

_I'm not very chivalrous, doing this. But if it stops her from worrying in her sleep, than it's excusable. _Eragon's thoughts were conflicted, but he reasoned that Raya wouldn't mind, if she could sleep through the night. "Mor'ranr lífa unin draumr onr." Eragon whispered, pressing his hand to her head. _Peace live in your dreams. _"Strength to you, Raya." He knelt over her sleeping form, covering her with one of his blankets. Before going to sleep, he kissed her forehead, then turned into his own covers and settled into sleep.

_That was kind of you, Eragon. _Tunivor said, touching his thoughts with the darkness of sleep. Eragon's mind went as dark as the dragons.

When he woke the next morning, he was alone in the bed. Raya's side was neatly made, but still warm, letting Eragon know she'd just recently left it, and that she'd slept there through the night. As he stretched and groaned the stiffness out of his joints, Eragon wondered whether elves ever woke up feeling stiff. _Probably not, _reasoned a part of his mind.

The breakfast tray was on the edge of the bed, with about half the food missing: Raya had already eaten. Eragon noticed that she had eaten enough for one person, and not enough for four. Which was a subliminal hint to Eragon that she was at her usual fighting weight. Eragon relished in the vegetarian fare, enjoying the bountiful fruits and vegetables.

He dressed and walked out to see who was nearby. Everyone was outside, enjoying the morning sunshine. Roran lounged, feeding Lunch grilled onions which were supposed to be Roran's breakfast. The crow snapped them up like they were worms and Roran laughed. Raya and Katrina had drawn a circle in the sand around their dwelling and were limbering up.

Katrina was standing with her feet shoulder width apart and her back relaxed. Raya was behind her, correcting her posture. Raya then handed Katrina the dwarf blade Carachlín. Eragon felt his eyebrows go up in surprise. Standing behind Katrina the whole time, Raya led the redheaded human through a simple pattern dance, guiding her hands the whole time. She then let Katrina do the dance herself.

"Now, keep time with me." Raya said simply, drawing Dorev and standing next to Katrina. She started again, keeping the moves simple, slow, and steady. Katrina imitated the moves with a similar steadiness and control. At first Eragon was surprised by Katrina's deftness with the sword, until he remembered that Katrina was a butcher's daughter, and was used to handling sharp objects with a steady hand. Eragon mentally kicked himself for forgetting.

He felt a small surge of longing because Katrina was learning the sword from Raya, who was sitja-ebrithil. A master of the sword. "How come you never mentioned wanting to learn the sword, Katrina?" Eragon said, going off to one side to study Raya's method.

"Oh, good morning, Eragon!" Katrina said form her spot, letting the sword fall. Raya patiently lifted the blade with her own. Katrina looked embarrassed. "Sorry, Raya. I know, don't let your guard down." Raya nodded. "I was going to mention it earlier, but then I saw Raya beat you into the ground, so I asked her instead."

Raya was smirking openly. "If you want to learn something, and you have the chance, learn from the best. My father told me that." Raya said, facing Katrina with Dorev raised. "Now, you will use the moves, against me. I will block and 'fight' you with the same moves. Understand?"

Katrina nodded fervently, and brought the blade up, a serious look on her face. Eragon walked over to Roran, standing near him as he watched the two women lock swords, moving slowly but steadily. "I almost envy her," Eragon told Roran, watching the two women move, "Learning from Raya."

"If you're not careful, my wife will be killing Galbatorix for you," Roran joked, looking up at Eragon.

"If she wants to she has my blessings!" Eragon laughed. He stood watching for a few minutes. When Raya started explaining something to Katrina, Eragon walked off toward the beach to talk to Saphira. She was napping in the sunlight, flicking her tail in the warm sunshine. Eragon leapt on the tail, which didn't even make Saphira twitch. She curled her tail around him and lifted him up until he was near her shoulder, then let him down.

_Hello, little one, _she said, peeping at him through an eye to look at him. Eragon scrambled up her neck until he was at her cheek. Eragon placed a loud kiss into Saphira's cheek, making the blue dragon hum.

"Did you see Raya training Katrina? I have a feeling Roran's going to be very surprised with the woman he ends up married to." Eragon said and Saphira chuckled. He hugged her cheek, patting the warm scales, eliciting more humming from Saphira.

_Katrina has that quiet strength and intensity that all sword-fighters do. But she has the ferocity of all women fighters. She's kind when she needs to be, but there is that essence of tough-love to her. _Saphira said, lifting her head to look out towards the lake. Eragon looked in the same direction, noticing the crystalline pureness of the water and the impossibly deep blue. Lake Ardwen was one of the deepest lakes in the empire: it was almost a league deep in some places, and the pressure of the water could easily explode a man's eardrums. To date, no one had touched the bottom of the lake.

As Eragon watched the water he noticed a dark shape swimming beneath the waves. Tunivor's massive head exploded out of the deep and bobbed over the waves like some great sea monster. He swam back to the shore, keeping his head above the water. When he got to the land, hauling his massive bulk out of the water, he sprinkled everything around him with water droplets which he shook easily from his brilliant white hide. Tunivor walked over to Saphira, placing a mouthful of large and glittering fish on the sand next to her. He looked pleased with himself and walked back into the water.

"Are all those fish for you!?" Eragon asked, looking at the pile of fish, which still flopped and glittered.

_Yes. Tunivor says fish oils make the hide strong and supple. _Saphira preened her scales, making sure they caught the light just right. Eragon stayed on Saphira's nose, taking off his shirt so he could enjoy in the sunlight as well. He had turned over, when Tunivor came quickly out of the water.

_Brightscales, how deep can you swim, _said the white dragon, not bothering to shake the water off.

_As deep as you I suppose. Why do you ask? _Saphira replied lazily, looking at Tunivor through one eye.

_I think I found something in the lake. _Tunivor looked into the water. When Saphira didn't move, he nudged her with his nose, which was wet. _Get up, Brightscales! _Eragon put a hand on Tunivor's jowls, pushing the dragon back. Again, Eragon noticed how one was bigger than the other, but Tunivor's insistence on going into the lake pushed the thought out of his mind.

"Very well, Tunivor. Let me call Raya, and we can go into the lake." Eragon said, talking to the dragon. Tunivor pushed Saphira again with his nose.

_Alright mister Cold-nose! I'm coming! _Saphira said, standing up, knocking Eragon loose from his perch on her neck. _Sorry, Eragon. _

"It's alright, Saphira. Let me call Raya and Oromis," Eragon expanded his mind as he spoke feeling for the minds of his master and his new companion. Raya's mind was heavily blocked, focusing solely on the task of teaching and battle. _RAYA!! _Eragon called out to her mind, shocking the Rider. _Tunivor found something in the lake, get master Oromis and master Glaedr and come quickly! _He felt her mind send an affirmation that she was on her way, and then felt her mind expand considerably, seeking out Oromis.

Eragon looked up and saw Saphira walking into the water behind Tunivor. Eragon took off his leggings and boots, and dove into the water, gasping at its coldness. Its bite was like a thousand sharp knives shooting through every inch of his skin. He reached for Saphira's tail, letting her drag him to the spot in the middle of the lake where Tunivor was already floating, anticipating Saphira and Eragon.

He swam up to Saphira's face, grabbing on to the spike at the top of her head. She gave him a signal and Eragon took a deep breath, and held on tight as Saphira and Tunivor went under the water.

Holding his breath as best he could, Eragon kept his eyes open, hoping to see whatever it was that Tunivor had found. As the pressure of the water got stronger, Eragon muttered spells to alleviate it, releasing bubbles of precious oxygen as he continued. He had to choose his words very carefully.

They went as deep as the dragons could go, the water pressing on them all, with the water getting steadily colder and darker, until the only sign of light was the inner fires of the dragons. Tunivor steadied at one point in the water, leveling his form, no longer diving.

_There, _the dragon rumbled, pointing with a claw into the waters depths.

_I don't see it, _Eragon said, following the dragons outstretched claw into the lakes depths. All he saw was an even deeper expanse of dark blue.

_Do not look for specific objects, Eragon. Look for a shape. It should be an oval-like blob. _Tunivor pointed again and Eragon focused on the area. Straining his eyes, he looked for a oval-like blob. Nothing.

And then he saw it.

_Is that what I think it is? _Asked Saphira, straining to see. Since Saphira's vision was predominantly blue, and their underwater world was all blue, Eragon was surprised she could notice anything. But then again, what to Eragon looked like an expanse of the same blue color, might have looked like an entire landscape to Saphira's eyes.

_Yes! The water is too deep for me to dive. It will crush even my ears. _Tunivor already looked like he was in pain. _Besides, I take in too much oxygen, it makes me over-buoyant. _Saphira tried to swim a bit deeper but the blob was still out of reach.

_I can't go down there either, it hurts my ears too much. _Saphira groaned and went up higher. _We'll need our Riders magic._

_Saphira, I need air, _Eragon said, feeling slightly light-headed from the lack of oxygen. _Can we discuss it on the surface? _Saphira nodded and turned upwards, Tunivor swimming next to her. By the time they broke the waters surface, Eragon's lungs were burning for air. He breathed deeply, enjoying the "warmth" of the water on the surface. It was still cold, but not nearly as cold as the deep water.

He looked toward the shore, and saw gold flash on the banks. _Glaedr. _Eragon slipped into Saphira's mind and looked toward the shore: Raya was on the banks, taking off her boots, stripping off her tunic and diving into the water. She swam steadily, until Eragon could see her with his own eyes. Tunivor swam forward a bit to meet her.

"Tunivor told me what you found." Raya said, breathing hard from her swim. "Ready to attempt another dive?" She said, looking at Eragon and Saphira, who nodded, bracing themselves for the deep.

"Spell yourself against the pressure now, because you'll lose oxygen down there." Eragon said, whispering the spell to himself. Raya nodded and started whispering, then took hold of Tunivor's face and again the two dragons dove.

Though he had just felt it, the bite of the water was cold and bitter, and he could see goosebumps on his and Raya's skin. Bubbles still managed to escape their nose and mouth on the dive down, but they had enough air for a second look. Eragon was about to suggest surfacing again for air, when he saw Raya float towards the corner of Tunivors mouth. When the dragon exhaled, letting loose the barest stream of bubbles, Raya took several breaths from the dragons mouth, for herself.

Eragon swam to Saphira's mouth, imitating the move he just Raya do. Saphira exhaled into Eragon, and he took the precious oxygen into his mouth: it was slightly ashy and tasted of smoke, but it was still oxygen. He looked over to Raya again and saw her brow creased in concentration.

_It's a bit hard to see, _Eragon said, touching her thoughts lightly. Raya shook her head. She spoke into the water, bubbles streaming from her mouth, and the blob at the bottom of the lake, lit up like a beacon. Eragon could see it distinctly, but it was still so far away.

_We're going to have to lift it with magic._ Raya said, frustrated with the distance, and swam to take another breath from her dragons mouth.

_Without speaking? Can we do that? _Eragon thought, looking intently at Raya. Against Tunivor's white hide, Raya was very obvious. Her ivy eyes looked surprisingly brighter under the water and her hair had escaped its usual braid, floating behind her like a dark cloud. She was in a breastband and leggings, and for a moment she reminded Eragon of the stories told on the coast of women with fish-tails, which would rescue sailors who fell overboard, from the dangers of the deep sea.

_Can you do magic without speaking? _Raya asked, looking at Eragon in a rather surprised way. Eragon shook his head. _I'm not very good at it either. But they always talk with their mind. Maybe they can do it. _Raya pointed to the two dragons, and Eragon nodded.

_Wording? No point in wasting magic when we can figure it out now. _Eragon wondered into her mind, already readying himself to enter Saphira's mind.

_Lets try Reisa du Oueiva. That's simple enough. Do you want to try first? _Raya said, taking another breath from the dragon. They couldn't keep it up, eventually both dragons would have to surface for air.

_You first. You know Tunivor's mind longer and better. _Eragon suggested and Raya nodded, swimming into her dragons hands. Her eyes drifted closed and her body went slack. Tunivor looked directly at the dimly glimmering blob, and it glowed brighter and wiggled, but didn't lift. Raya's eyes opened and she swam back to the dragons mouth for one last breath of air.

_Our turn. _Eragon said, relaxing his mind into Saphira's, and feeling for her wellspring of power. It wasn't nearly as developed as his: her controllable magic was much smaller than Eragon's, and most of her magical strength came from instinct and the innate power of her race. He tried to put his own magic into it, and said the words Raya had suggested. The object wiggled a bit more, lifting off the floor a few inches, but nothing else happened.

_Both dragons._ Saphira said, still holding onto Eragons mind. He felt Raya meld her mind with Tunivors, and both dragons offered up their magic, so the object might lift.

_Reisa du Oueiva! _Called four voices mentally, and finally, wiggling ever so slowly as it went along, the object lifted. It rose slowly until it was between both dragons and Eragon could finally get a good look at the troublesome object. He was awed by it, for even around the water-slime and silt, it was beautiful, glowing with a steady inner light. From what he could tell it was blue, but it was still so dark under the water, that that was all he could see. Still, it was a dragon egg. A real, dragon egg, not just a shiny blue rock, but a dragon egg!

At that moment, Eragon felt Raya's mind panic and go black. Tunivor grabbed the egg in one claw and turned speedily for the surface. Saphira separated Eragon from her mind and also turned towards the surface. The two dragons exploded over the water, breaching it with a loud splash.

Tunivor put Raya and the egg into his mouth and quickly broke for the shore. Eragon was shocked that he thought it safe to put the rider in his mouth, but as Saphira swam for shore as well, Eragon figured that, since the dragons head was over the water, Raya would be away from the water, and not inhaling it, like Eragon was as the dragons swam.

When they got to the sandy beach, a crowd had already gathered, and Tunivor was taking the waterlogged Raya out of his mouth. Eragon saw the blue egg under his tongue, but he didn't move the egg. Eragon hauled himself out of the water, running and stumbling ahead of Saphira. He dropped to his knee's near Raya, rolling the unconscious woman to her back. He pulled the wet hair from her face and felt for breath.

Nothing.

_She's not breathing! _Tunivor screamed into everyone's consciousness. _I cannot feel her mind! She's dying! _Eragon felt the dragons panic: if his Rider died, the dragon died. It was that simple.

"Not if I can help it!" Eragon said determinedly, "Qoten du adurna iet Raya!" _remove the water from Raya_ Eragon said, placing his hand over Raya's mouth, and a blob of water lifted into his hand. He felt around: _no more water in her lungs, but her heart isn't pumping. No heartbeat, and her lungs aren't taking in oxygen. _He pushed down on her ribcage, pushing the heart to beat. He kept pushing until he felt the heart beat feebly on its own, fluttering and stopping again when it found there was no oxygen to feed the blood.

Tunivor thrashed madly, swinging his head from side to side, feeling his Riders life ebb away. The dragon had opened its mind to everything and everyone in the area, if Raya died, and Tunivor died, everyone would feel it as acutely as he did.

"Come on, Raya! Breathe!" Eragon said pushing down on her chest.

Still nothing.

Tunivor's screams got louder, he was already keening, a death knell which shook everyone in the area. Eragon tried to shut out the people calling out for Raya to breathe.

"Breathe for her!" someone called out to Eragon. And the second Eragon heard it, he knelt over Raya, pressing his mouth to hers and breathed into her lungs, exhaling hard. Raya's chest lifted and Eragon, feeling slightly encouraged, breathed again. The problem was, it was either breathe, or force the heart to beat. Eragon wondered how hew was to do both when someone pushed their way through, breaking the line of watchers.

Dunspar.

He knelt down at Raya's other side, pressing down on her chest, "Breathe for her, Eragon." He pressed down on her chest as Eragon breathed into her mouth. Tunivor's keening was painful and Eragon couldn't think around it. Saphira and Glaedr paced around them, keeping the watchers back, away from Eragon, Dunspar, and the white pair. Eragon breathed again into Raya, and he felt her consciousness spark, as the heart took the oxygen into the blood and forced it back into the brain and the body.

Raya coughed.

As her coughs became stronger, and Eragon could tell she was trying to breathe on her own, Eragon and Dunspar knelt back. She breathed hard, still lying on her back , and Eragon turned her onto her side. Dunspar stood up and disappeared into the crowd surrounding them. _How odd, _Eragon thought, but it was fleeting, for he was too preoccupied with Raya.

Tunivor, sensing his Rider was conscious and breathing on her crowed his ecstasy, nudging Eragon aside to lift his Rider into his claws, clutching her like a rag-doll. He rumbled his happiness and the entire crowd managed to loosen, no longer feeling the dragon die. She was alive.

Eragon collapsed backwards, feeling his own exhaustion with the underwater mission. Saphira settled down behind him, nuzzling his side with her large blue nose. _You saved them both, you realize that, don't you? How many people can say they saved a dragon as well as his Rider? Look how happy he is that she's alive. _Saphira spoke gently into his mind and Eragon relaxed against her head.

_That was terrifying, Saphira. I could feel him. And her. I could feel them dying. I've never felt so powerless. _Eragon held tight to Saphira's head, leaning against her cool scales, which were slowly warming up beneath his skin.

_You're cold. Too cold. Barzuln, that water was too cold for both of you. _Saphira said, assessing his physical state quickly. She extended her mind to the entire area. _THEY NEED TO GET WARM. BLANKETS, A FIRE, WARM FOOD. QUICKLY! _

"Tunivor, let Raya down. Happy as you are, there's no need for her to die from Hypothermia. That lake water is frigid," Eragon said weakly to the dragon. His words slurred, but he registered that he'd been understood. He too was shaking, now that he wasn't working on adrenaline, his body was succumbing to the elements, and Eragon felt his vision blur as the cold wracked his body. His brain was slowly getting just as foggy as Raya's had been. He forced himself to keep shivering.

He saw the dragon put his Rider down next to Eragon, and then Dunspar broke through the crowd again, leading Katrina and Roran, each of which had a pack in their hands. Dunspar ran off again, marshaling people around them to gather driftwood and beach trash, for a bonfire. Elves scattered to do as he said.

Katrina pulled Raya up, and Eragon was equally roughed up by Roran, who was muttering angrily at him as he pulled a long-sleeved tunic over Eragons head, getting him in clean, warm clothes. Eragon was given a blanket and a towel, and seated roughly next to Saphira. Next to him, Raya was stripped of all her wet clothes, towel dried roughly by Katrina, who was rubbing her skin vigorously to get her circulation going again. She too was shoved into clothes and a towel wrapped around her long brown hair.

The elves had been quick to gather the driftwood, and had built a quick pile of it in the middle of the beach. Glaedr turned his head to the pile and let loose a ball of quick hot fire, and the wood burst into flames, catching quickly to the dry wood. Eragon felt himself tossed in front of the fire, and Raya was just as unceremoniously plunked down next to him. Eragon felt Saphira sitting there, warming their backs as people swam in and out of focus.

The first person Eragon recognized was Oromis, who had come forward, again with Dunspar, who had a sort of pitcher and bread in his hands, and a loudly clanking bag in the other. Oromis knelt before Raya and placed a small bottle to her lips. Raya nodded and swallowed, coughing some as the liquid in the bottle made its way past her lips. The color returned to her cheeks, but she still had goosebumps.

Oromis came over to Eragons side, holding the same tiny bottle to Eragons mouth. He swallowed, expecting a nasty medicine. It was Faelnirv! Delicious warmth spread through Eragons core as the liquid passed over his lips. He barely heard himself stutter, "Thank you, Ebrithil."

"Dunspar, they could use those bowls now. Careful though, they are still shaking." Oromis said to Dunspar, who had pulled two high sided bowls, more like large cups really, from the bag and pulled the stopper out of the pitcher. From it steamed deliciously hot, rich, soup.

"I didn't realize we would be eating lunch this way. My mother was rather hoping for us to be seated at a table." Dunspar joked, pouring the steaming hot soup into one bowl and passing it to Eragon, who looked more able to hold something. He poured another one which he handed to Raya.

Eragon nodded at Dunspar, "Thank You, fricaya," he said, holding the bowl of soup with both hands. He could feel his fingers, thanks to the soup, and his stomach was already ready to accept the hot soup, thanks to Oromis' Faelnirv. He sipped the soup, scalding his tongue.

_Better scalded than frozen_ he reasoned, and swallowed another mouthful of soup. It raced down his throat, hitting his stomach and Eragon could feel more parts of him warm. He drank more soup, being careful to chew the vegetables that were floating in his bowl. When he was no longer shaking, and he could feel all his limbs had warmed, Eragon looked up.

"This is really good soup. Hot. But Good." He said to Dunspar, who gave a relieved laugh.

"I'll let my mother know. Soup is always good when you're coming in from the cold." Dunspar clapped Eragon lightly on the shoulder. "You gave us quite a scare."

"I gave myself a scare." Eragon said, swallowing another bit of soup. It was too good to leave alone, especially since he was cold.

"You gave us all a scare, Eragon-finiarel, Raya-elda." Oromis said, settling himself down beside Eragon. Dunspar looked panicked for a second, then poured a bowl of soup for master Oromis. "Thank you, Dunspar, but I'm not very hungry. I think Eragon can take that bowl though, he seems to have finished his." The bowl went to Eragon, who dug into it with gusto. "Was there a purpose to the two of you nearly drowning in lake Ardwen?" Asked Oromis very coolly, like he was asking about the weather.

"There was a point, Ebrithil, I swear." Eragon said, looking at the old Rider. _He must have been just as panicked as we were. More so, since he couldn't help until after the fact. _Eragon looked over at Raya. Who was having her bowl of soup refilled. She smiled gratefully at Dunspar, but her eyes lit up only when she looked at Eragon. That made him smile. "How are you feeling?" Eragon asked her, forgetting master Oromis for the minute.

"Considering I almost died? I'm feeling surprisingly well." She replied, her tone lighter, and laughing.

"It takes a strong heart to laugh at death." Eragon replied, the Faelnirv and the food making him giddy.

"That's my name, don't wear it out. Besides, dragon riders are supposed to do dangerous deeds, brave death, laugh in the face of danger, and all those sorts of things." Raya said weakly, sipping her soup. She leaned against Eragons shoulder. "I'm better, I promise."

"Shall we show them what Tunivor found? What we risked our lives for?" Eragon asked her, putting an arm around her shoulders and moving the hair from her face. He shook it a bit, shaking out the water so it would dry faster. Raya nodded, leaning into him with a smile.

Tunivor urged Saphira to eat the fish she hadn't eaten earlier, _I'll keep them warm for now. Go on, Brightscales, you are hungry as well. _Saphira stood up and Tunivor settled down behind them. He was much warmer, the fires in his belly keeping them both significantly warmer. Saphira wandered off to eat the fish from earlier.

When she returned, Tunivor lowered his head to the level at which Raya and Eragon were sitting with Oromis, Dunspar, Roran and Katrina. From beneath his tongue, Tunivor removed a deep blue egg. Saphira's scales were more of the bright, royal blue of sapphires. This egg was the deep, almost navy blue that came from only the oldest of sapphires. Whereas Saphira's egg had been veined in white, the egg from the bottom of the lake, was veined in black.

"I imagine that is what Anurin's dragon looked like," Eragon said, taking the egg from the floor where the dragon had placed it. When he saw Raya's and Oromis' confused looks he added, "It's just, the color of the egg, matches the dragon within, correct. And a Rider's sword is made to match his dragons hide, correct. Dorev is almost this same color, it would match this dragon perfectly."

"I'm going to sound a bit selfish, but his Riders out of luck: I'm not handing over Dorev." Raya laughed, taking the egg from Eragon. As Raya turned the egg over in her hands, Eragon saw her mind meld with Tunivors, her pupils blurring to black and quickly straightening into slits, the whites becoming more prominent.

"Is there something you want to say, Tunivor?" Eragon asked, looking up at the dragon. The dragon looked surprised at his question.

_No. I'm happy as I am. What makes you think so? _The dragon answered, looking immensely intrigued.

"Look at her eyes. They only did that when she was speaking for you." Eragon waved his hand in front of Raya's eyes. "Raya? Are you there?" Raya was still staring intently at the dragon egg. Staring at it, Eragon noticed, with dragon eyes. Tunivor looked at Raya, lowering his head to look into his Riders eyes. Oromis looked equally intrigued, he leaned forward.

Roran and Katrina looked worried, "Is she alright?" Roran asked, getting ready to stand up again. Oromis quieted him with a hand. Oromis was staring intently at Raya, she turned the egg over in her hands again. She quirked her head to the side.

Raya rose to her feet, the egg still in her hands. Her towel and her blanket fell to the floor. Tunivor twitched, obviously wanting to keep his Rider warm, safe, and _close_. Raya walked over to Katrina, still looking at the egg. Nothing. She stood in front of Roran. Again nothing. She skipped Oromis and Eragon, and came to stand in front of Dunspar. This time she paused. She stood there, still looking at the egg.

It squeaked.

Then it wiggled.

Raya extended the egg to Dunspar, and he took it in his hands, confused at her behavior. Once the egg passed from Raya's hands here pupils widened, turning back to green. She shook her head, as though clearing her mind. She saw Dunspar sitting in front of her wide eyed, staring at the deep blue egg in his hands.

"Like I said, I'm not giving you Dorev. As far as the sword goes, you'll have to ask Rhunon-elda for a different one." Raya said, realizing what was happening. She sat back down next to Eragon. In Dunspar's hands, the egg squeaked.

It wiggled again, violently this time, and Dunspar dropped it. A crack appeared in the shell. It squeaked again, this time more fervently. Everyone who had gathered to watch Eragon save Raya, everyone who had felt Tunivor's death knell, had now gathered around, anxiously watching the egg. Still too awed by its presence to express any joy that it had been found. And were now in equal awe to see it hatching.

It gave an almighty crack, and another loud squeak, and the shell burst into a dozen large shards, and on the floor stood another little dragon. Dunspar found himself in the same position Eragon had been it. Too awed to do anything but extend his hand to the tiny creature which was no larger than a rock lizard, its wings still wet from its egg skin. It looked at Dunspar's outstretched hand, and rubbed his head against it.

Dunspar gave a shout, and a current of electricity visibly ran through him. When the current passed over his head, it removed all the color from his hair, turning it back to its original brown, making the hair tie snap off. Eragon felt himself staring: he'd only experienced this once, never watched it. Did it always looks so uncomfortable for the Rider? The Dragonet squeaked again, rubbing its head into Dunspar's hand. The gray eyed half-ling smiled warmly, scooping the little dragonet into his hands.

_Saphira, I hope you left some of that fish. Last I checked, hatchlings are hungry little things. _Tunivor rumbled, and Eragon felt himself chuckle.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: How Things Stand**

It was harder to tell who was in a greater state of shock that day: Dunspar could only look at the little dragon, which had fallen quickly asleep in his arms after eating a fish that was twice as big as he was

It was harder to tell who was in a greater state of shock that day: Dunspar could only look at the little dragon, which had fallen quickly asleep in his arms after eating a fish that was twice as big as he was. The elves, it seemed, had not known that a dragon egg existed at the bottom of Lake Ardwen and were all for searching through every lake in the empire to see if there were any more eggs "just lying around." The biggest shock was Islanzadi herself.

After seeing the dragonet hatch, the crowd around them had reluctantly moved aside to permit the queen to pass through to see the Riders and their Dragons. When she had stopped in front of them, she froze, open-mouthed shock written into every line of her face. She observed them, clearly surprised at what was happening. She took a step forward, toward Dunspar and Oromis, but paused before she had taken a second step.

Eragon could see her dilemma: Go to the existing Rider's (Eragon and Raya) and find out what happened, or go to the new Rider, with the tiny blue dragon which (at the time) was tearing apart a fish. She had already slighted the Riders twice, especially Raya, who had stiffened considerably at the arrival of Islanzadi. They watched her as she weighed her options, taking in Raya and Eragon, hair still wet and both of them cold and shaking.

She chose those Riders who were prepared to fight for the future, walking toward Eragon and Raya and kneeling before them. "Are you alright?" She asked them, her eyes passing over them to check for bruises. "You have done something both very dangerous and very brave. You have made me proud and i am honored to kneel in your presence." She twisted her hand over her breastbone in a gesture of extreme respect. "You are truly the hope and the strength of the Riders."

Eragon didn't know what to say first. He stood the Queen up and had her sit down next to him. "Your majesty, sometimes in the name of politics, people must argue, but that doesn't change the status or importance of either member. You are a Queen of all the Elves; you do not need to bow to me." Eragon noticed Raya give him the barest of nods. I must act as the leader, and so far, I'm doing a good job.

"He is right, your majesty," Raya said, her voice heavily controlled, "Eragon is a future leader of the Riders, and so far, there are but two dragon-riders under his command. Sit, if not as a queen, then as his equal" Raya looked over to Dunspar, who was cleaning up the scraps of fish skin left behind by his dragon.

"Your majesty, you met Dunspar yesterday. Meet his newly hatched dragon." Eragon pointed and Dunspar scooted to sit closer, protecting his dragon with his arms.

"That is a fine dragon. Colored like the night sky, just before the last ray of the sun passes beyond the horizon. I must ask, is it male or female?" The Queen nodded, talking to Dunspar since the little dragon was not yet big enough to understand speech, and not forthcoming enough to open its mind to anyone save his Rider.

Tunivor spoke through Raya, _"Bring that over-colored rock lizard, here."_ Dunspar stood up, still protecting the little dragon. Tunivor lowered his eye, so he could see the dragonet. Dunspar turned the dragonet onto its back, exposing its stomach. _"Spread his wings for me, please." _Dunsparobeyed, spreading one wing, the baby dragon squealing its dislike of the situation. _"The little glutton is male."_

Dunspar put the dragonet around his neck, petting the tiny head as the dragon began to doze on his shoulders. "Little one," Dunspar said, looking at the dragonet. It trilled. "How would you like the name D'Arun?" The dragonet scowled. "Bathshon?" The dragonet scowled again. Dunspar thought considerably. He opened his mouth, playing a name on his tongue. "Amiron?" The dragonet trilled. "Amiron it is! No changies!"

_"A fine name"_ Saphira said, making Eragon rasp. He looked at her, but Saphira wasn't looking at the little dragon. She was looking at Tunivor. He threw a rock at her side. _What did you do that for?_ She seethed at him mentally.

"It is a fine name," Eragon said, in his own voice. Not sure of what to say next, "Saphira ate a lot of meat. She mostly caught it herself, but i don't know how things change for an elf-raised dragon." Eragon looked over to Raya, who shrugged.

"I don't know. Tunivor ate off my plate, but he always brought down birds and mice without any of my help. He moved up to rabbits, goats, and deer as he grew bigger. I never really paid attention to how much he ate until we flew off with Vrael." Raya said quickly, deferring the question. "But Eragon is right. Amiron will double in size every week for the next month. He's male, he might even grow faster. Tunivor most certainly did."

Dunspar looked really afraid for a moment, but he patted the little dragons head. "We'll figure something out." The dragonet purred into his hand, rubbing against his cheek like a cat would.

"Dunspar will have to come back to Ellesmera with me. He and i will work on a quick schedule, until the point that Eragon can come back to finish his own training. Perhaps, because we now have more Riders that Galbatorix does, Eragon can return sooner, rather than after the flight on Uru'baen?" Oromis looked worried but hopeful. He wasn't sure how long he could hold on, and he needed to finish Eragon's training.

"No." Raya said, cutting Eragon off mid-answer. "That's not going to be enough."

"What do you mean 'not going to be enough?'" Islanzadi asked, "Raya-elda, you know full well that an attack on Uru'baen is too dangerous. And now that we have a third Rider, we have a better chance of taking back the Emerald egg."

"You don't understand. Galbatorix is madly searching for the last Rider. We need to take that Egg, while it still hasn't hatched." Raya argued, standing up to look down on Islanzadi. The Queen wasn't going to take that.

"We have time, Raya. Hunting the Emerald Egg is un-necessary." The queen argued back, and Raya's eyes flashed a bright emerald, darkening to almost black.

"Un-necessary? Are we in the same world?" Raya asked, her eyes flashing between emerald and black. "Galbatorix has two dragons that are STRONG. He and Murtagh are both magically strong. AND, he has 100,000 men easily at his disposal. If we want to beat him, we have to have the upper hand. We will not have the upper hand, if that egg hatches for a Rider under Galbatorix's control."

"I recognize the way things stand, but in six months-" The queen started to talk but Raya slapped her. Her slap echoed around the clearing, and Islanzadí raised her hand to her cheek, no doubt feeling the sting of the slap.

"Six months is too long, don't you get it? You do not realize the way things stand. Let me explain the way things stand currently, because you are clearly delusional." Raya did not snarl, but her voice dropped until it was colder than Lake Ardwen. Eragon didn't quite understand how Raya got-off knowing more than Queen Islanzadi, but the slap had brought the queen and everyone on the beach to attention. "Galbatorix has one dragon for himself, it is his second dragon. It is possible that he has tied the soul of Hurudel, his first dragon, to Shruikan's body, and is using the power of both dragons' souls to fuel his evil magic's. Shruikan is who knows how big, maybe as big as Tunivor, maybe bigger. Not only has Galbatorix got all that magic, but he also has a Kingship over Alagaesia, meaning he controls the people, the treasury, the soldiers, and he has 100 years of experience at keeping the people of this land under his iron-toed boot."

"On top of that, he has Murtagh, Son of Morzan," Raya looked like she was in immense pain at mentioning Murtagh and Morzan. "Murtagh is armed with his father's sword: Misery, a blade that i knew as well as i knew my own. Murtagh is as good as Eragon with a sword, and better at magic. Thorn, the Red Dragon which he rides, is as big as Saphira, though mercifully, he doesn't breathe fire yet. By the way, waiting six months, will only mean that we will be attacking when Galbatorix has two, fire-breathing Giant-lizards!!"

Raya was on a roll, and she was not letting the point go. "So not only that, but did i mention that Galbatorix OWNS all the people of Alagaesia. He could easily start bringing in young men, parade them before the egg. I will not let it hatch for a human who will be so easily bound by Galbatorix."

"You downplay the powers of those who fight against Galbatorix." The Queen said tersely. Raya wasn't done.

"Did i sound done to you? I was about to tell you what we have running in our favor," She snarled at the Queen. "We have elves which hid behind trees for 50 years, under the leadership of a queen who is incompetent and cowardly. The under-funded and under-powered Varden is doing the best it can, with the help of a country that is nine times smaller than Alagaesia! But there is good news: we might, MIGHT, have the dwarves on our side, if they aren't swayed by a King who will send them deeper into their halls of stone.

"And we have four Rider pairs. One pair is so old that they are largely ineffectual, and crippled. Their only purpose is to train a leader for the next generation. -- If you'll excuse my bluntness, Ebrithil." Raya said, quickly turning to Oromis and Glaedr, who were too stunned to really accept her apology. "We have one Rider pair, who still has their Egg-skin attached. Dunspar and Amiron are too small to be of any use now. And don't get me wrong, for yearling Riders, Eragon and Saphira are strong. But they are YEARLINGS! No yearling ever made it against a full grown dragon like Shruikan. He will catch her, and he will fly her himself, Saphira's and Eragon's wills be damned" The elves in the clearing flinched, as though Raya had uttered some horrible swear-word. Islanzadi responded by taking a step back. Eragon didn't quite understand, but he did notice Tunivor and Glaedr growling at the thought of Saphira being caught by Shruikan. "And the final pair, that is to say myself and Tunivor, haven't seen the light of day in over 100 years!!"

"If our trip in the lake has proven anything, it is that Eragon and I are still not strong enough to bear the elements, much less the power and strength of a monster like Galbatorix. There, that is how things stand. Or have I forgotten something?" Raya snarled at Queen Islanzadi, who was still so surprised by Raya's vehement outburst that she hadn't managed to move her mouth since Raya had slapped her.

Raya was breathing heavily; she managed to calm some, her voice no longer frigid, but just mildly cold: "Currently, the odds are not good enough. If we want to beat Galbatorix and remove the threat he poses once and for all, even odds are not good enough. So, is it necessary for us to get the last egg? No it is not necessary, it is imperative that Eragon and I retrieve the last egg as soon as possible. We MUST rescue it. End of story."

Islanzadi looked absolutely livid at being told off by Raya. "I will call the Vinr Alfakyn who are to fly with you to the dwarves, and from there to the Varden. Eragon they are under your control. Once they arrive, you are to leave hastily for the dwarves. Am i clear?" Islanzadi said tersely, talking to Eragon. He nodded to say he understood. "Raya Hjartadorev, unless you are coming with another dragon-rider--be they your companion or your apprentice--you and your dragon are expressly forbidden from coming to Ellesmera. If you do come with another Rider, which you no doubt will do, you are forbidden from contacting the royal family."

"What Royal family?" Raya sneered. "Last i checked you are the last of the line of Drottningu. Even your daughter refuses to bear the title of princess." She smirked at Islanzadi, who fumed.

"Get out of Du Weldenvarden. Now." The Queen ordered.

"With relish. I will wait for you Vinr Alfakyn, Your Majesty" Raya gave her an exaggerated bow but didn't go anywhere. The Queen looked livid. "Get your people. They have to fly on Tunivor, Saphira's too small." Her majesty looked angry at this miscalculation, but refused to budge, no doubt calling her people with her mind.

"They arrive shortly. Leave before i turn you into a tree." Islanzadi growled at her. Raya nodded, and disappeared in the direction of her dwelling. When she returned, she was carrying Tunivor's saddle under one hand, and her saddle bags over one shoulder. The dragon lifted his Rider to his back, and Raya set the saddle promptly, taking care not to nick her bow in the process. She jumped down and stood before Islanzadi.

"Your people are taking too long," Raya said in a voice that sounded like she was commenting about the weather. "Did they stop to pick flowers, or are they simply singing them love songs?" Raya sneered. The Queen did not respond.

The tension between the two women was frightening, and Eragon stood up and touched Oromis on the shoulder. "I'm going to go get Saphira's gear. I'm sorry we have to leave this way." Oromis looked kindly at Eragon.

"Those two have always been tense with each other, and i fear Islanzadi has made a grave mistake, barring Raya from Ellesmera. But there is naught that i can do now to change that. Go, Eragon, see the dwarves, fight for the Varden, save the egg, and return to Ellesmera. I eagerly await your return. May the stars watch over you."

"And peace live in your heart, Ebrithil. I will do my best. I am sorry this had to happen. I will speak to her: i am her leader now, after all." Eragon ran back to his room, Roran was behind him. The two of them got their things, and readied Saphira. Eragon said goodbye to Queen Islanzadi, though she responded, he didn't think Islanzadi quite understood what was happening. She was glaring at Raya.

When three blonde elves appeared at the Queens side, they were given orders in sharp elf, and Raya turned on her heal and climbed her dragons side until she was in the saddle. The three elves looked at the sheer wall of scales which was Tunivor's side and they gulped, wondering how on earth they were to get into the saddle. Tunivor was still growling in anger, and they didn't want to ask the dragon for help. They climbed, slowly but steadily making their way up his side, until they were near the saddle. When they climbed in, Eragon noticed Raya giving them some orders, hissed under her breath. The three elves didn't look at all scared of her. Instead, they nodded, acquiescing to whatever her demands were.

"Roran, Katrina, we should go." Eragon said, and watched as Saphira helped both humans onto her back. "Lunch!" Eragon called, extending his forearm, and the crow flapped down from a tree branch somewhere. Eragon turned to Dunspar. "Tell your mother that I'm sorry we couldn't share a meal with her. I apologize for leaving you in this mess, fricaya."

"Nonsense," Dunspar said, patting Eragon on the shoulder. "She will understand. As for the mess, I'll handle it. Personally," He lowered his voice, leaning in towards Eragon, "I think Raya has a point. But i can't say that too loud with her majesty standing there. I hope those dwarves pick a good king and that you come back quickly. May good fortune follow you always, Eragon."

"Good luck, Dunspar." Eragon said. He patted the sleeping dragon's head, which only trilled sleepily, and he turned to Saphira. "Ready to go, Saphira?" She nodded and Eragon sent lunch up towards Katrina. Once he was in the saddle, the crow was back on his shoulder. Eragon looked at Raya, who was stone faced and gave Saphira a signal to lift off. She lifted herself up from the ground, took a running start, and launched herself into the air, giving her wings a good solid flap. She flapped until she was soaring. Behind her, Tunivor rumbled, lifting himself onto his haunches, the elves on his back hanging on for dear life. He leaped into the sky, flapping his wings until he was high enough to level out.

Beneath Eragon and Saphira, on the beach, sparkled the gold hulk of Glaedr, and just barely visible under his Riders hair, sparkled a blue, as deep as the waters of Lake Ardwen.

"I never thought I'd say it but, this time, I'm glad to be leaving the elves behind." Eragon said to Saphira.

_Me too._


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Silthrim to Ilea Feon**

Eragon never thought he'd say it, but he was glad to leave the elves behind. He had been frustrated to no end in Silthrim, and the politics had bored him senseless. It made more sense to him to go do something dangerous (such as face Galbatorix head-on) as opposed to the roundabout plans of the elves (draw him west than north, or north than west, and then attack from the south). On top of that, they had been forced to take three of the Queen's own elves with them. It annoyed Raya mightily that they had to travel with her.

All three elves were Vinr Alfakyn, and all three bore some version of yawe on their person. All three were also blonde, lithe, and soft-spoken, which drove Raya even more mad. There were, however, some differences. Two were obviously male. Dahía was the oldest. He was a pale, white-blonde, and he had deep ebony eyes. His mouth was perfectly bow-shaped, and he had high pointed ears. At 6'6" he was taller than Eragon, and with such a narrow build, he was probably lighter as well. He preferred a bow, and hand daggers, as opposed to the sword, and traveled in garb that was of different shades of gray. He had one pierced ear, from which hung a swan feather. Powerfully magical, with the ability to sing stones quickly into shape, he was the leader.

The other male elf Ankee was shorter, more Eragon's height, but still of a much narrower build. He was gold haired, and he kept his locks in a tight tail, perched high on his head. His ears were also pointed, but they weren't very big, nor were they very prominent. He had no piercings and wore no jewelry. His most prominent feature was his legs, which were heavily muscled, since his specialty was kick-fighting. He wore only a single long dagger at his waist, and several smaller ones on his person. He also chose to wear more dappled clothing, which was gray, green, brown, and helped him blend in, if he stood very very still. Magically, he had immense reserves of power, and acted as a conduit or source for the other two elves.

The last elf, was female. She was shorter than her two companions, but taller than Raya. She reminded Eragon much of Arya, with winged eyebrows, soft green eyes, and high pointed ears. She wore black leather, like Arya did, and avoided looking too long at Eragon. Her curved blade was also like Arya's, and she had a shorter bow, for cross shooting, as opposed to the longbow of the leader. The obvious difference between Tona and Arya was that Tona had shortly cropped blonde hair. When Eragon had seen her short blonde hair, she'd told him it was cut on purpose, because long hair was far too easily flammable, and she did way too much explosive magic to have a fire hazard like that on her person.

After leaving Silthrim, they flew steadily, with Roran and Katrina on Saphira with Eragon. And the three elves, on Tunivor, with Raya. Eragon had noticed the clouds forming in the north when they had left Silthrim, and had hoped to outdistance them. But by noon, the sky was full of dark gray clouds, which threatened to burst open at any minute, and they were forced to land, having only just started.

They landed in a small alcove of trees (not the best place, in a thunderstorm) but being as there was only forest beneath them, there wasn't really any place else, and Eragon didn't want Saphira in the air if lightning broke from the clouds. Tunivor offered them a general cover from the rain, by spreading his wings wide on each side, and hooking the ends in nearby tree's creating a tent that would repel most of the water. Raya did not take cover, opting to stay on Tunivor's back, though she had removed the saddle and placed it under his wings for cover. She was avoiding the three elves.

When the rain finally broke, it came down in sheets. The water was frigid and the drops were big, quickly soaking almost everything. Under Tunivor's wing, the ground was dry, but it was dark and cold, and the small fire helped only a little. Saphira couldn't take up space under the dragon's wing and was forced to face the rain. She tucked her head under, but the rest of her body was still out in the rain, making her as grumpy as a wet cat.

Tunivor did not seem at all perturbed by the rain. Eragon figured that, for a dragon even half his size, there wasn't really anywhere in a forest that he could hide, to keep the rain off of him. And apart from a cave or dragon-hold, there wasn't really anywhere, period, where he could find shelter from the elements. He had consigned himself to the fact that he would get wet, no matter what happened. He dozed on the spot, lodging his head in the branches of a tree and closing his eyes.

As the cold rain continued, Roran pointed out to Eragon that Raya still had not joined them, opting instead to remain on Tunivor's back. Her clothes were soaked, sticking to her body in wet folds. She'd pulled her hair from its braid, and it laid in dark, wet, strands over her face and across the dragons back. She was staring up into the darkened branches of the trees, looking past them into the dark sky and the falling drops. Eragon wondered if she was feeling the cold, because her lips were blue, but she wasn't shivering. She breathed easily, her chest lifting steadily as she watched the rain fall through the canopy of leaves.

As the rain continued even harder and Raya still hadn't moved from Tunivor's back, Eragon began to worry. If she got sick, she was useless to them. Yet, the elves never got sick, because they were immortal.

_She's half-elf_. Reminded Saphira, pointing out the fact that human's did get sick, and they could die from the cold and the wet. And that it would do them no good if Raya died, because she'd take her dragon with her.

_Is Tunivor talking to her_? Eragon asked Saphira, getting up from his crouch at the side of her head, and stretching his cramped muscles.

_No, he's been talking to me since we landed. Why? Are you worried_? Saphira's reply worried Eragon, because he would've dearly loved to know what the two dragons were talking about, but his concern at the time being, was for Raya_. If you are so worried about her, go up there and make her come down. _

_But I'll get wet too_! Eragon complained, but he was already moving toward Tunivor's side, to climb the dragon's wet scales.

_So use magic. You can block us from fire, so block yourself from rain_. Saphira reminded him and Eragon spelled himself so that he wouldn't get wet. He climbed to the dragon's neck, holding onto a neck spike while he observed Raya.

She had closed her eyes to Eragon, not wanting to look at him. It was dark and Eragon couldn't see well. Lightning lit up the sky, thunder rumbled, and still the rain fell in sheets. He stayed still, letting his eyes get accustomed to the abysmal light, until Raya opened her eyes again. Eragon realized that there wasn't just rainwater on her face: tears had fallen, unseen, down her cheeks. The cold water of rain had kept her skin from getting blotchy. Apart from the immense sorrow emanating from her, the only sign she'd been crying was her blood-shot eyes, the red making the green stand out in a painfully beautiful way, even in the abysmal darkness of a thunderstorm.

Eragon moved carefully over to the place where her head was, and eased himself into a seat. He pulled her into his lap. She was still crying, though it seemed that the worst of the sobs had dissipated, and her tears came down quietly. He cleared the hair from her face, and put his arms around her, holding her tight.

"Why are you crying?" he whispered into her ear.

"I'm grieving. I've yet to properly mourn those I've lost, and a rainstorm seemed like a good time to do that." She answered with a hiccup in his ear.

"Will you get sick from sitting in this rain?" Eragon asked her.

"Only heart-sick." She replied and Eragon let her be. He remembered when Garrow died: he wanted to be alone, but when he was alone he could only think about his uncle. And when he was with people, the world seemed bitterly cruel, because Garrow wasn't in it, and everyone was just going on with their regular lives. It was horrible. So Eragon let her mourn.

"I keep expecting to see them," she told him, wiping the water from her face, but still not looking at Eragon. "When we're flying, I look over to where Saphira is, expecting to see Vrael, him on Mithravil, and he's not there. When we were with the elves, I kept expecting Evandar or my father to walk into a meeting. Every time I saw Glaedr and Saphira and Tunivor, I was wondering where the others were? Where were Heloin and Rudvor, Jasiaheh and Caduen, Javor and Drino, Kozera and Jablanica the pink? Gone, gone, gone."

"They aren't gone in your memory," Eragon offered, "You can still remember them there. They exist in your mind and heart."

"But to me, they should exist now! Don't you see, Eragon?" She started crying again. "I've been asleep for a hundred years! They died over the course of a century, but to me it's like everyone died last week. Like I've only been asleep for a day or two. And then I woke up and 'poof' they vanished. They're deaths are ancient history to you, to me, they are fresh and painful wounds, and I'm just now realizing how many died."

"Let me carry your sorrows," Eragon said. "Tell me, please. Who died? I don't know anything about the Rider's of old, one or two, but not on a personal level, the way you do. I only know that they are almost all dead. You knew them in life; let me mourn the lives that are gone, with you." Raya looked at him quizzically, wanting to know why he would do this.

"Are you sure you want to know? There are so many," she said, her eyes distant, but no longer red from the tears. "And you will feel the pain of my loss as the stories continue?"

"I want to help you, Raya. If I am feeling their loss, you won't have to." Eragon helped Raya to stand up. "Come, let's get you as dry as we can, and you can tell me over some hot tea. You don't have to sit by the other elves. Just sit with me." Raya nodded and followed his lead, like she was a small and fragile child. She changed into dry clothes, and then sat by the fire to let herself get as warm as possible. When Eragon gave her a cup of hot tea, she accepted it with quiet thanks.

_Rudvor was Tunivor's brother. He and Heloin traveled with us for a while. _Raya spoke to Eragon's mind, and he let down the barriers on his mind, allowing her to settle there comfortably. _Tunivor and Rudvor were from the same mother, but from different fathers, and it was as though they were complete strangers, they were so different. Rudvor was a bright, pumpkin orange._

_Orange!? Really? He must have stuck out like a sore thumb, wherever he went! _Eragon laughed, envisioning a bright orange dragon.

_He did! Heloin said that the only place the dragon could hide, was in the sunset. And even then, his shadow was on the ground! _Raya laughed into his mind, and Eragon was relieved to hear it. Raya continued to tell Eragon stories, starting with Heloin and Rudvor, of whom Raya was especially fond, because Heloin became an older brother to Raya. Javor and Drino, were a separate pair that Raya had constantly butted heads with, only because Drino had outflown Tunivor in the Rider's games. They were fiercely competitive, but with him gone, she had missed them both.

Jablanica the Pink, had been a flirt of a female, always showing off her pretty pink scales. Kozera had been another female Rider, who had become fiercely protective of Raya, when she first arrived in Doru Araeba, because Raya was so small, and so young. Jablanica had been Tunivor's first love, and he'd done everything in his power to impress the flirtatious pink female. He tried everything, and he got his heart broken when Jablanica refused to mate that year, because she didn't want to be grounded with eggs to worry about. Still, Raya had been fond of Kozera, even after the two dragons stopped speaking to each other.

The more Raya told him, the more Eragon realized why she was so keen to return the Riders to power. They had been the only one's to accept her, and not cast her away, because she was half-human. They respected her as the White-Rider, and treated her like a little sister, or a best friend. Their losses were as acute and sharp to Raya as Garrows death had been to Eragon. Talking about them helped, and Eragon could feel her grief lessen, and through he didn't carry her sorrows, he did understand them, and by listening, he managed to lessen them. Raya's heart was still heavy, but she was no longer crying. She sat at Eragon's side until the rain no longer fell against Tunivor's wings.

When the rain did finally stop, it was night. But rather than staying the night in their little alcove, Tunivor and Saphira had insisted they keep flying, being as the sky was cloudless and there was a waxing moon. They wouldn't make it to Ilea Feon, but they could make up some of the lost distance.

While they flew, Saphira reached for Eragon's mind. _You do realize that you shared in her memories back there, right? _Eragon pondered the thought. Sharing memories, according to Arya, was taboo and was not to be done. But Eragon didn't feel like he'd done anything wrong.

_I don't think that is what Arya meant when she said it was taboo for elves to share memories. I think she means that it is taboo for me to go into her mind, and just live through her memories. Whereas what Raya did, was talk to me, mind to mind, just like you and I are doing now. _Eragon explained his reasoning and sensed the affirmation from Saphira.

_That's what I figured as well, I just wanted to see if you came to the same conclusion. _Saphira flew on steadily, her wings eating up the leagues quickly, and he was glad they were making up some of the distance. _Eragon, do you realize that that Raya has only lived for twenty years? _

_She's 120 years old. That would mean she's been alive for 120. _Eragon said, hoping his dragon hadn't gone completely stupid in a few minutes.

_No. She's been alive for 120. But of actual life experience, she's only LIVED for 20. Not even 20. In her mind, she's as young as you are. _Saphira commented and Eragon was again forced to think. He compared the youthful way Raya moved, with the same grace as all elves, but she sat down, with none of the careful dignity of the elves. And she was far too impatient to have been an adult for long.

_I guess that's okay. She has the vigor of youth, combined with the knowledge of self of a much wiser and older person. But she has none of the coolness of the older elves. _Eragon commented rationally. _Her eyes are younger too, notice that although Arya looks young her eyes are ancient. Whereas Raya is young. _

_So her being so young is a good thing? _Saphira asks, and Eragon wonders about the tone she's using, as though she's got another point to make.

_Yes. Why? _

_It just means you have a better chance with her than you did with Arya. _Saphira's comment was said in a manner that was non-chalant, but he could tell the weight of that comment. Raya was not as old as Arya, not in her mind. And Raya wouldn't be so keen to use the "I'm 120-which-is-far-too-old-for-you" excuse like Arya had.

_Do you want me to say something to her? More importantly, do you want her to return that affection? _Eragon asked, wondering what was Saphira's prerogative in bringing up this discussion.

_I'm just saying that, for the dragons, it is easier if their Rider's don't absolutely loathe each other. You said you didn't want to say anything to her about your conflicting feelings, because she was so much older than you, and would only crush you like Arya did. Knowing that she doesn't see herself as that old, and knowing that she might not crush you like Arya did, does that change your decision? _Saphira's logic was easy to follow and Eragon had to pull back for a second to think.

_I don't know. I would like to, if I could get some guarantee that she liked me back. I would, if it wouldn't bother you. I would, if I knew her dragon mightn't roast me for doing it. I would, if I knew you wouldn't get jealous. There are a lot of "if's" Saphira, and I don't know if I like the odds yet. _Eragon looked behind them, seeing Tunivor trailing behind. _He's tired. _

_He won't admit it. But it's taking some time for him to get used to the weight. _Saphira looked backwards as well.

_Your concern is touching. _

_You are trying to change the topic. But yes, I am concerned. There is no point for him to fall out of the sky. _Saphira said very matter o' factly.

_What am I supposed to say, Saphira? The fact is, my mind hasn't changed, yet. Maybe if I think about it more, I'll decide to do something. But until you decide to mate that hulk she calls a dragon, I'm not going to say anything about my affections for the Rider. _Eragon had managed to successfully change the topic. Eragon yawned, feeling exhausted by the long day.

_Well, my first concern is you. And you are tired. We are going to land, now. _Saphira said, already making for the ground. Eragon tried to argue, but was rather glad that they would be landing, and that they had made as much progress as they had.

_But what about Ilea Feon? _Eragon asked, trying to hold back another yawn.

_I don't know about you, but I've had enough of the elves. We'll fly over the city, say hello for an hour and then head south. I'm sick of the forest. Let's head back to the mountains. _Saphira was being silly, but Eragon realized that he was also sick of the elves, and he would much rather be in Farthen Dur sooner, rather than later.

_Very well, make for the ground. And tell Tunivor to do the same. He'll no doubt be happy to get those elves off his back. _

_Rest, Little One. _Saphira's mind wrapped his in cool darkness, and Eragon felt himself fall asleep, with nary a dream to disturb his slumber.

AN: I don't know how many of you care, but i'm in Florida. Where it's warm. And sunny. (okay parly sunny, but it's warm) Not in cold Chi-town. I think i should live here permanently. Cuz i always get more work done while i'm down here. I think it's because the warmth thaws my slightly chicago-frozen brain....this is true at least during the winter. But, yeah, if you're one of my Hunter readers, prepare for an amazingly HUGE update sometime in the next week. Elhana readers, slowly but surely reposting. I know some people are cranky and think i should just repost all the stuff in its original format, however, when i erased Elhana, i kept only the backup copy provided by FF, and erased (as in deleted from existence) every rough draft and old file. So, when i decided to bring this back (at your urging) i only had one gigundo huge file....which was a bit unwieldy to work with, cuz there's a lot of extraneous type in there. The one Gigundo file (for those who may wish to know) was 275 single spaced pages. (yes you read that correctly). So, it's taking some time to cut out the "computer-ese" hopefully this will tide you over!!

Lady Wolf


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Dagshelgr Promises**

Ilea Feon was a city Eragon had not seen on his first visit to the elves: Arya had insisted they skirt the city to avoid alerting anyone to their presence. Though Eragon and Raya were still smarting from their encounter in Sílthrim he felt it was necessary that they land and at least greet those who lived in Ilea Feon, especially since they needed to restock on supplies. Carrying as many passengers as they were, limited the amount of extra weight the dragons could carry. Tunivor could carry four and their belongings but only enough food for a few days, which meant that they would have to stop more frequently to restock.

Ilea Feon wasn't nearly as large a city as Silthrim or Ellesmera, it was more of an oversized town and though several hundred elves lived there, no one was cramped or lacking in space or leisure activities as they were in the larger cities. Saphira landed, Tunivor behind her, without the usual amount of fanfare. Someone strolled over and told him that they'd been expected last night.

"We were grounded by the storms," Eragon said, pulling down his hood. "We can't stay. We need supplies and then we need to get going."

"There's a pile waiting for you," the elf responded, shrugging in the direction of a storage house. Eragon assumed the elf was male, simply because it was easier, in truth the elf's voice was of medium tone and had no identifiable sex characteristics, and he couldn't be sure if he/she/it was male or female.

"Good. I'd like you to meet my companion," Eragon turned to Raya who gave a whoop and ran forward, hugging the elf with a fervor he hadn't seen.

"Hjartadorev!" he called out, picking up Raya and twirling her around. "I thought you were dead, with all the other Riders! I heard about the raids on Doru Araeba!"

"Dukat!" squealed Raya happily, still hugging the elf. Eragon assumed by the name, that the elf was male. Still, Dukat was often used as a female name. "What raids? Eragon never mentioned that," Raya asked, pulling back to look at the elf.

"They were after Vrael's death." Dukat answered, checking to make sure Raya was sane.

"I was hidden away the night of Vrael's death." Raya answered. "Dukat, you look good with this hair-style." Raya ran her hands through the elf's long black locks. "It looked so weird short."

"And you look good clean!" laughed Dukat, kissing Raya on the cheek. "Last I saw you, you were covered from head to toe in thick black mud."

"And whose fault was that?" Raya said with a laugh. Eragon noticed that Raya was oddly comfortable around the elf. He still felt awkward, unsure whether the elf was male or female.

"I admit, it wasn't very nice to push you, but you were asking for it," Dukat laughed and hugged Raya again. "You kept saying you were a dragon-rider, but I didn't see any dragons. Just an overgrown rock lizard." Raya laughed at his joke, while Dukat turned to Tunivor. "Morning, Diamondhide."

_Overgrown rock lizard? Why you impertinent minx. Good Morning, Dukat._ Tunivor chuckled and pretended to be annoyed, but was easily pleased with the elf.

"He's a big one," Dukat said to Raya, still not releasing her from his hug. Eragon was mildly annoyed, but realized the elf was simply being friendly. Raya was a friend, and she looked very happy to see Dukat. "Really big. Will he mate the blue-dragon?"

"That 'blue dragon' is named Saphira." Eragon said quickly, not liking where the conversation was going.

"I don't know," Raya said more firmly. "That's up to them. We'd have to wait for Saphira to be in season anyway. That's a mighty personal question there, reason you ask?" She still kept her arms around Dukat's shoulders, but was no longer pressed up against the elf.

"You know me. Information and Gossip are my life's blood. Besides, dragons could mate at a Dagshelgr, if they wanted to. The fall equinox is tomorrow. They stay, have their fun. You stay, and Rider Eragon of course, and we can all have some fun." Dukat pulled Raya's hips close to his own, but gave Eragon the lusty wink. Eragon felt a shiver run up his spine.

"Appealing as that may sound," Raya said, finally withdrawing from Dukat's clutches, "We race for Farthen Dur. You want to help us pack? Or are you going to hunt down Faolin and Glenwing."

"Faolin and Glenwing are dead," Dukat said, his eyes sad. Her eyes? The way the elf had winked at Eragon, he would have been sure the elf was a woman. But the way he/she held Raya, Eragon would've sworn the elf was male. "I haven't been with Faolin or Glenwing since they joined the Princess Arya as members of the Vinr Alfakyn. I have new prey to hunt. Though, I've got my eyes on a Rider pair, I am dismayed to say I shall spend the Dagshelgr like a commoner." The elf looked at Raya and at Eragon and that same lusty look flickered through his eyes, which Eragon noticed, were mismatched: one was a bright and lustrous sky blue. The other eye was a vivid green.

"So I take it that means you will help us?" Raya said, looking for the storage house where they were to get basics traveling supplies. Dukat linked elbows with her and led the way.

_Tunivor, a minute if you don't mind._ Eragon approached the dragons mind with some caution, but was surprised to find Saphira's presence there. _Apart from his eyes, is there something else that's 'off' about Dukat?_

_His eyes? Or her eyes? Which do you think it is, Eragon? _The dragon asked cryptically. Eragon realized that the dragon had noticed his confusion. _Let me tell you. One of Dukat's eyes is male. That would be the blue one. Notice how he kept Raya in sight of that eye? The other eye is female. She looked and winked at you with that eye. _

The dragons response surprised Eragon. A female eye and a male eye? Did the elf lose one and the other was a donation from a friend? More importantly, was the original set all male, or all female? _Eyes are all fine and dandy. But what about other parts? Is Dukat physically male or female? _

_Yes. _Tunivor smiled with a chuckle. _Many say that Dukat is male. After all, it is a male name. But others argue that Dukat is a woman. The frame of the body is lithe, narrow, and small breasted, but breasted nonetheless. But he has a man's anatomy, as well as a woman's. _

_Isn't that a bit confusing? Why not just change it? Like he does his hair_ Eragon loped alongside the white dragon, his hand on the white scales.

_She can't. _Tunivor replied. _Dukat could have been born weird or she might've added the male appendages. I don't know and I prefer not to ask. _Eragon sent a quizzical thought, wondering why the dragon thought Dukat was a woman. _I say she, because it is easier for me to imagine a woman. I am less protective of Raya that way. If I thought Dukat was primarily a man, I would not let him hold her that way. _

_What does Raya think of Dukat's unusual-ness? _Eragon asked, looking at the two of them. Dukat was helping Raya and Katrina measure out portions of travel grains like Rice, barley, and oatmeal. He noticed that Raya stayed away from Dukat's blue eye, letting Katrina be on that side. Dukat did not make advances on Katrina, noticing the protective way Roran looked at her.

_Raya loves Dukat exactly because of that unusual-ness. Dukat was the scroll keeper at the Libraries of Doru Araeba. When the city fell, she must have caught a ride with another Dragon-rider. Raya's friends, you will find, were all oddballs. Dukat is just one of many who were 'different.' She was close friends with humans who were of mixed colors. Or those who, like her, were of mixed blood. She preferred them, because they were not nearly so critical of her past. _

_Any other odd friends I should know about?_

_A few werecats. Maud was always fascinating to talk to, and a younger werecat by the name of Solembum. She is very fond of the dwarves as well. _Tunivor pondered as Raya passed the saddle bag up to the elves which were on Tunivor's back, adjusting the weight on the dragon. _A few others. Though, their names elude me now. _

_Dukat's tone was odd back there. It sounded like she, he, oh now I'm confused. Like she wanted to celebrate the Dagshelgr with Raya and with me? What did she mean?_

Eragon noticed the white dragon looked uncomfortable. He looked at Saphira, and Eragon noticed an interplay between them. _Brightscales, has he participated in any of the Dagshelgr? _

_No. Last we were around one, we were asked to empty our ears. The only ceremony we have seen was the Agaeti Blodhren. What happens? _Saphira asked, touching both Eragon's and Tunivor's minds.

_You should not have been asked to empty your ears. It is a learning experience. That is like telling you that your body is ugly, and that your emotions are not worth feeling. _Tunivor's eyes passed over Saphira's body and Eragon wanted dearly to voice his dislike of the activity, especially when the white dragons gaze remained on her wings and hindquarters just a moment too long. _The Dagshelgr are powerful nights. Passion runs amok through the forest and the skies above it. _

_So what did Dukat want with Eragon and Raya. Surely she doesn't need two people to satisfy her…needs. _Saphira purred the last word and tucked her head, looking at Tunivor with only one eye. Eragon felt his stomach tighten.

_Dukat is half and half. She will desire some of both. Hence her desire that both Eragon and Raya join her. I wouldn't allow it, and neither should you. _Tunivor snaked his head forward, moving toward Saphira. _Personally, my desires are more conventional. _

_**Could the two of you desist from that behavior? **_Raya's voice butted into her dragons mind. _Eragon, I suggest you leave from my dragons mind. Go reign in Saphira. _Raya had looked up from her position at Dukat's side, and was looking livid at Tunivor.

_Reign me in? As though I would yield to a reign. _Saphira snorted at being so rudely kicked out. _Eragon?_

_I'm inclined to agree with her. That was blatant flirting. You would knock me over for something like that. _Eragon did not look at Saphira as he thought, going over to get the saddle bag.

_You are not looking at Raya as a potential mate. Tunivor has already completed the first offering._ Saphira snorted, flames tickling her nostrils, as Eragon hefted the bag, checking so he wouldn't bruise what few vegetables that they had.

_Not the point. You know very well Raya and I are influenced by your emotions. It would be better if we didn't decide to stay for the Dagshelgr and spend it with Dukat, just because you were 'flirting' with Tunivor. We are more susceptible to your whims and fancies. I've known Raya for less than a month, and I don't think it would be appropriate for me to romp in the sheets with her, just because you were flirting. _

_Would you mind so horribly? You like her don't you. _Saphira shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the weight so that it wasn't hindering any major muscle groups.

_Humans may have an instinct to mate, but we aren't very good at it the first time. Dragons are different. You know what to do. I don't. And I've never done... 'that.' _Eragon felt extremely awkward and completely embarrassed. Saphira knew his night-time exploits were non-existent. Why on earth was she talking this way?

_Fine. I will try to keep the flirting to a minimum. Happy?_ Saphira shrugged again and the bags fell into place. _A little heavy, but that'll lessen by tonight. Eragon, you're bow is prodding me. _

_Here, I'll fix it. _Eragon didn't feel that the situation had been resolved, but he went to go fix the offending bow anyway. Eragon felt his mind wander over to Raya. She pulled behind mental barriers, not wanting to talk in that way. "Saphira's ready to go. Katrina, Roran, back in the saddle." Eragon said aloud, and looked out to the group.

"Tunivor's ready as well." Raya said, walking over to Dukat and extending a hand in farewell. Dukat looked at the hand, then at Raya.

"You know very well that friends embrace, Raya Hjartadorev." Dukat stood there, hands on her hips. "You give me a hug. We don't do this handshake nonsense." Raya put her hand down and opened her arms for a hug.

Dukat swooped in and embraced Raya. Eragon noticed that for the hug, she kept her female eye open, but pulled back and switched eyes. Raya looked into the blue eye and ran her hands again through Dukats hair. Dukat gave her a wicked grin. Suddenly, Eragon noticed how Dukats hands had taken on a very masculine grip on Raya's waist. He leaned over and touched his lips to Raya's.

To Eragons immense surprise, Raya kissed him back. When Dukat opened both his eyes, he and Raya pulled apart. Raya kissed the cheek beneath Dukats green eye, and whispered a good-bye and climbed onto Tunivor's back. The dragon rumbled his annoyance.

Dukat turned to Eragon. Eragon wanted to run right up Saphira's side, but knew he couldn't just fly away. He at least had to say goodbye. Eragon stretched out a hand. Dukat looked at it. Shrugged, and took Eragons outstretched hand in a firm handshake, closing the green eye, and looking out at him with the blue one, the male one. He pulled Eragon into a brisk man's hug.

Eragon felt himself stiffen. Dukat pulled back, with her green eye open. Eragon couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that both Arya and Raya had green eyes, and for some odd reason he didn't understand, they were his weakness. Dukat was fast, and before Eragon's sharp reflexes could pull him away, Dukat had kissed him too, her mouth soft on his. Eragon exhaled, trying to form words of protest. Dukat kissed him gently and Eragon felt his mind begin to wander, yet still completely focused on the kiss.

Eragon finally managed to pull away, and noticed that Dukat was looking at him strangely. He could not move, mesmerized by those odd mismatched eyes. Eragon looked purposefully into the blue one. Dukat grinned mischievously.

"You are innocent," Dukat said, speaking loudly enough so he knew that Raya, Roran, Katrina and three other elves heard her. Dukat smiled when he noticed Raya's eyebrows arch and a grin play in the corner of her mouth. Kissing Eragon on the cheek, Dukat whispered, "Next time we meet, you will not be so. I so wish I could be there, but alas, it is not my fate." Eragon pulled away, and let Saphira scoop him into the saddle. "Goodbye, Riders. Be sure to return for the Spring Equinox. That one's the most beautiful, especially here in Ilea Feon. The trees themselves will bloom with our amour."

"He scares me." Roran whispered in Eragon's ear.

"That's a woman, Roran." Katrina whispered, giving Roran a smack on the shoulder.

"Eragon, you tell us. Man or woman?" Roran whispered as Saphira flapped her wings to lift them up over the city of Ilea Feon.

"Why would Eragon kiss a man?" Katrina said, still arguing with Roran. Eragon wondered how to phrase his answer.

"I hugged a man. I kissed a woman." Eragon replied, with a smile. That silenced Roran and Katrina. He looked over at Raya, who shook her head, a smile lit up her features. Her mind tickled the edges of his consciousness and he let her in to his thoughts.

_Does the thought scare you? _She asked, looking down at the city of Ilea Feon, where Dukat waved at the two dragons._ Spending the Dagshelgr with two people? _

_I don't even know what happens at a Dagshelgr. But I'm scared enough that I would hesitate in coming back to Ilea Feon. _Eragon said, encouraging Saphira to turn south and eastward. They would not fly over Ceris, but head toward the Edda River.

Raya's mind made an _a-ha, _sequence, and Eragon wondered what she'd figured out. _It will not bother you so much when you are less innocent. In fact, you might rather enjoy it. _

_I don't think so. _

_Never say never. Besides, if Tunivor has his way, both you and Saphira will be 'less innocent' sooner, rather than later. Just let me know when you care to learn. _Raya pulled out of his mind, leaving Eragon more confused than ever.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: Down the Edda River**

That day they continued to fly without stops, zooming over the outpost of Ceris, much to the delight of the elves on watch

That day they continued to fly without stops, zooming over the outpost of Ceris, much to the delight of the elves on watch. Eragon was happy enough, but the long silences of the flight cast him into his thoughts, which slowly pinged in all directions inside his head.

He was still unnerved by what had happened in Ilea Feon, not only because of Dukat's strange behavior, but also Raya's comments as they left.

Dukat had unnerved him because of the easy camaraderie he had with Raya: she had lost all of her friends from the past of the Riders, except this one. This odd-ball elf with far too much anatomy, weird eyes, and a penchant for flirting with both sexes. He held Raya close to him, pressing her hips far too close. But Eragon could tell that, if given the chance, Dukat would have easily sidled up the same way to Eragon. His sexually charged advances put Eragon off his guard: He would not like spending the Dagshelgr with the odd-ball elf and he didn't think he'd like it if Raya did as well. When Raya had kissed the elf, Eragon felt so confused: was he an old lover? She had said that there had only been two, and one was a Rider. She didn't react at all when Dukat turned and kissed Eragon. How awkward, how confusing, how utterly and completely bizarre!

It also irked him to no end, the way Dukat had said, "You are innocent" like it was something both surprising, and a dessert he wished to sample. Raya had seemed surprised at that. Why was that surprising? Did it matter that he was inexperienced? He had killed people, faced the Empire's wrath, been by himself, he knew what love was and attraction. What did it matter? Did it matter? He fumed at that the thought that it was so easy for Dukat to tell.

No. The idea which plagued Eragon the most had been Raya's words: "_Besides, if Tunivor has his way, both you and Saphira will be 'less innocent' sooner, rather than later. Just let me know when you care to learn." _What did that mean? Well, he knew what it meant for Saphira. She was a yearling, and she'd already felt the call to mate. She wanted that, she was ready for it. If he excluded Saphira from the sentence, he came to 'If Tunivor gets his way _you_ will be less innocent sooner, rather than later. Let me know when you care to learn.' Let her know? Why on earth should he let her know he wanted to learn how to...

_WOULD YOU STOP THAT?! _Saphira said, with outright frustration into his mind. Her vehemence emphasized over their mental link. _You are annoying me with those self-pitying thoughts. _

_Sorry if my perturbed and utterly confused state of mind puts you off your flying, _Eragon snapped at her with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

_Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. The reason Raya, and Dukat, looked so amused is because the Riders --especially the male Riders-- were as well known for their prowess under the sheets as well as on a battlefield. They looked hungry, because it is rare for a young man to enter the Riders with '__that__ still in tact. It was a rare treat for Dukat. An interesting 'opportunity' for Raya. _Saphira's tone was one of exasperation, like he was a foolish child who should know this, and he was being silly and forgetful.

_And how do you know this, o' wise one? _Eragon asked her, his voice still sarcastic.

_I asked, Foolish one. That's how I know. _

_You didn't. _Eragon felt himself blanch in morbid embarrassment. She had asked, while he had been fuming, Saphira had been getting answers.

_Eragon, you are being silly. Everything must mate. You know this. Just because you haven't done so, doesn't mean you don't know what 'it' is. Lift yourself from this mood; complaining and fretting will get you nowhere._ Eragon heard Saphira's words, but didn't believe her: he was still stunned that she had the audacity to ask SOMEONE for information on that, probably Raya/Tunivor.

_If you didn't realize, Saphira, Garrow died BEFORE I turned sixteen. He gave Roran "The Talk" when Roran was sixteen. I remember, Roran was beet red for three days. So, actually, I don't know what 'it' is, nor how 'it' is done. _Eragon felt a flush rising in his cheeks: he knew the gist of what happened, vaguely, but he didn't know the physics of the situation. Nor the energy required.

_Well I am most certainly NOT going to teach you. Go ask Roran. _Saphira snipped, completely shutting her mind to the topic.

_I am not going to ask Roran. _Eragon felt himself turn a deeper shade of pink.

_Fine. Then go ask Raya; she's another Rider. She came into the fold young. _Saphira's tone was far too casual. It drove him nuts.

_I'd rather kiss Shruikan, than ask Raya about what people do during mating, or what Riders do while their dragons mate. _Eragon shuddered, and Saphira expressed her annoyance.

_I don't care. If you wish to be left utterly and completely confused when Tunivor and I mate, than so be it. I don't care. __**I **__will, at least, be having fun. _Saphira snapped at him and Eragon felt it was more than time to change the subject.

_Have you decided? _

_What? _asked Saphira, confused.

_To mate with Tunivor? You said 'when' you mate, not 'if' you mate. Have you decided? _Eragon tried forcing the topic away from him.

_THAT is not the topic under discussion. My body and mating are not the problem here. _Saphira said, mentally turning up her nose at him.

_Oh yes it is! He was looking at your RUMP! _Eragon said, partly uncomfortable with the very thought of Saphira's 'rump.'

_So? _Said Saphira quietly.

_So?! It's your rump! He shouldn't be looking at you like that! _Eragon said, outraged.

_You look at Raya's hips. _Saphira's tone was far too easy and casual with this. Did she even care?

_Me looking at Raya. I have no intention of having children with Raya. _

_Stop it. The only reason it is different, is because you are MALE. I do care about this situation, because Raya is as much my business as she is yours. You are frustrated, _Saphira read his emotions as easily as Eragon read a scroll, _you are frustrated with YOURSELF. You cannot comprehend the female anatomy, now what you are supposed to do with it. You do not know how you are supposed to function in that highly charged a situation, such as mating. Until you figure out how 'that' part of you functions, don't you dare take your frustrations out on me. I'm not going to feel sorry for you. _

_Eragon, Raya offered to show you. To teach you. You can ask her, or you can figure it out for yourself. I like Tunivor, and I do intend to mate with him, when the time comes. But I cannot do that while you are still uncomfortable around Raya. You have to understand her. You don't have to ask her for lessons in your mating procedures if you don't want to: go look it up in a scroll when we get to the dwarves. But, At least ask enough to know what you are supposed to do, when I mate. _

_Now, there are some nasty winds in this part, and I noticed them the last time I flew over. I have to focus on that. _Saphira had said her bit and had pulled out of his mind, leaving Eragon to stew and argue in his own thoughts about this awkward topic. He couldn't think about it: asking Raya would be as embarrassing as asking Arya. He just couldn't do it. He'd end up blabbering.

To avoid thinking about the topic in general, he looked toward the white dragon. Maybe she had stopped looking at him like he was a slice of almond torte. Maybe she was back to normal, no longer considering a night with both Eragon and Dukat. He shivered. Bleargh, how weird.

Raya wasn't in the saddle when he did look over. He counted the three elves, and looked around Tunivor's back for Raya. She wasn't there. He looked up and found her perched easily on a spike on Tunivor's neck. She had on the cape she had with her when she left the cave. It was an odd, lumpy, and awkward looking cape, the material far too thin to protect her from the weather. She laid her head against Tunivor's neck, than stood, so she could literally fall off the dragon.

She didn't fall, she jumped. She leaped into the air, launching herself from the dragon's neck, and spread her arms and legs out wide. The wind filled the sides of the cape, and it spread, almost like the dragons wings, and caught her, lifting her into a thermal. Eragon was dumbstruck. The cape, was built of a light material, so that it would catch the air in a way that heavy fabrics did not. Each "wing" was stretched over a skeleton much like a dragon's wing, or a bat's wing. He was watching her drift on the currents, when one wing collapsed, and she tumbled sideways. Tunivor's tail caught her, flipping her to the other side of his head, and she drifted again.

_Saphira, did you see that? _Eragon asked, poking the scales which were in front of him. She grumbled and turned to look, and Eragon felt her surprise when she saw Raya "flying" next to her dragons head.

_I see it, but I'm not sure I believe it. She's flying. Well, more like soaring and gliding, because she doesn't have the muscle structure to complete the actual vertical movement necessary for manually controlled flight, but still, she's in the air. _Saphira, it appeared, had learned the technical definition for flying, and was looking at Raya, as though she were another creature of the sky.

_Now THAT is something I want to learn. How does she do it? I know the cape is part of it, but how did she learn? Where did she get the idea? Did someone teach her? _Eragon watched as Raya glided easily under the dragons head: because she could only count on thermals and air currents to keep her aloft, she didn't go as fast as Tunivor and Saphira did. She would drift to a point, then Tunivor's tail would come out of somewhere, or a claw, or even his head would lower or twist, until he caught her and he threw her in front of him, so that for a few glorious minutes, she was flying WITH her dragon, not ON him.

Tired, and no longer able to keep the wing frame taught, she collapsed the wings and let herself fall towards Tunivor's neck. She swung around one of the spikes, and shimmied around until she was lying flat on his head. She was so tiny, she might as well have been a mouse, sitting on the head of a horse. That was the only comparison Eragon could think of. Raya patted the dragons head, kissing his forehead, and Eragon could see the white dragon smile. Their bond was based in love, as well as magic. She stayed there while Tunivor glided through the air, as majestic and powerful as anything Eragon had ever seen.

_They are beautiful. _Eragon said, speaking only to Saphira. _Will I always be this amazed by her? By them? _

_I doubt it. He is the White Dragon. That beauty and grace are part of his heritage. And she is as regal as any Queen; she even has the fiery temper to match that extreme grace and unusual strength. _Saphira sounded pensive, and she looked at Raya, and Eragon could feel her gaze was directed at the woman.

_I think she's going back to the elves. Looks like she's saying something to them. _Eragon watched as Raya shimmied back down the dragon's neck, and stood in front of the three elves on the dragons back. In that second, she reminded Eragon of Nausada when she commanded the forces of the Varden, every inch a leader, every inch of her demanding respect and obedience. Raya talked to the elves, and they looked uncomfortable.

She didn't budge, and her stubbornness was tangible in the way she stood and held herself. The elves stood up, carefully holding on to Tunivor's back spikes. _She's going to make them walk around. They'll get bowlegged from all that sitting. I can imagine that will be most painful. But walking around on a moving dragon is not easy. _

_It is easy, if the dragon is monstrous like Tunivor is. _Saphira's tone was one of extreme interest, and he could feel her watching the White Dragon and his Rider, and riders. _She's going to make them exercise. I'll bet they don't like that. Maybe they too will fly as she flies. I wish I was bigger. Then you and I could do that too!_

_Soon. Eat a little bit more, a little more frequently. You fly enough that it won't turn you into a ball of lard. _Eragon joked with her, but Saphira was still watching the White Dragon.

_Was he really looking at my rump? _Saphira asked, a slight hint of worry coloring her voice. Eragon couldn't help but laugh out loud.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22: Farthen Dur**

From the Az Ragni to Farthen Dur.

They woke early and followed the Az Ragni all day. It wound it's way through the Beor's like a great snake or a road drawn on a map. Eragon and Spahira were quiet for the most part: it was too early to talk and speed was of the issue today. They had to get to farthen Dur tonight. Eragon's mind focused intently on the beat of dragon wings.

He had worried that the added weight on Tunivor's back would slow him down, but he managed to keep just a quarter-league behind Saphira the whole flight. _He's fast, _thought Eragon, looking back for the hundredth time that day.

_No doubt he'd be faster if it was just Raya on his back. He's strong too. Notice he makes only one wing-flap, while I make three. _Saphira had looked back as well, following the river deep into the mountains. It would end up pooling into a lake near the Eastern side of Farthen Dur. _He's got stamina, if anything. He could probably fly for several days on end, without tiring. He's just so big that rules no longer apply. _

_You'll grow too. _Eragon knew she was awed by Tunivor's immense bulk, but he sensed it frightened her somewhat. _Tunivor is exceedingly patient and gentle with you. All those mock battles and flying maneuvers, and he never once hurt you or lost his temper with you. He may be big, but he's a gentle giant. _

_Yes, but we've not really seen him in a battle for his life. The elves and the wraiths were nothing. How fierce is he when his blood is hot in his veins and he must fight tooth and claw for his future? He will not be gentle then. _Saphira was pondering something that Eragon could not quite understand: Tunivor in battle would be like any other dragon in battle. Fierce and terrifying.

_Well, he'll never be as fierce as you. You'll have him shaking in his scales. _Eragon was trying to cheer Saphira up, to make her laugh, but his comment had the opposite affect. She became more solemn.

_That worries me even more. _Saphira had reached the lake at the eastern base of Farthen Dur. It's waters were a deep dark blue, shadowed by the mountain overhead. The sky was slowly getting darker and if they didn't make it into the citadel, they would be stuck outside until tomorrow afternoon. Saphira waited for Tunivor to catch up, then headed around the great mountain until she could see the entrance behind the falls.

_Eragon! You have ears of stone, _Saphira rumbled, breaking his concentration. _Raya has been trying to get your attention for the last half hour. _

Eragon turned beet-red and extended a tendril of thought towards Raya. She and Tunivor had flown up so Saphira and Tunivor were wingtip to wingtip.. She was so far away, yet so very close. _Sorry, my mind wandered into thought. Worrying, I guess. _

_Eragon, I must ask what these elves and I are supposed to do? It's bad enough for the dwarves that you will have Roran and Katrina with you, but three elves and another Rider pair? Will the dwarves be hospitable to us? _Raya's mind was cool and had a calming affect on Eragon. Unlike Arya's mind, it was not so frighteningly vast, nor were her memories and thoughts so overpowering.

_Under normal circumstances, they'd be more than willing, _Eragon said as Saphira descended towards the base of Farthen Dur. _Ideally, only Saphira and I should go in. You could head toward the Varden in the meantime. _

Eragon could feel her displeasure with that idea on several levels. _Firstly, I don't know where they are. If I did, I have no guarantee that they won't shoot me out of the sky: Tunivor's wings are not arrow-proof. And even if I had both, it would still be a tricky idea. Tunivor may be big and strong, but six people is already pushing it. _

_Maybe you could just stay in the valley. I'm sorry Raya, I didn't think this out. I've been preoccupied with the idea of facing Az Sweldn rak Anhuin that I didn't give you a second thought. Forgive me? _Eragon had indeed been worried about Anhuin's clan, they had thrown the iron ring at him and they would do everything in their power to make his life miserable.

_The tears of Anhuin? Now, I vaguely remember Anhuin. Very beautiful dwarf woman, if a bit over-zealous and dangerously ambitious. But the Tears of Anhuin? Who are they? _Raya's confusion was obvious and Eragon was surprised she didn't know. How could she not? She was Vrael's companion, surely she knew of the death of the dwarves of Anhuin's clan.

They had landed in front of the water fall and had quickly passed into the tunnel which led to the city. "You don't know?" Eragon asked Raya, as they dismounted.

"Be brief, Eragon." She told him and Eragon listed the tale quickly to Raya. Her eyes went wide at first, and then her look changed to one of frustration. "I'm sorry for the loss of the dwarves, but I don't recall Vrael ever seeking out Anhuin's help. Vrael had no plans for the western Beor's. I guess Anhuin never had the alliance ratified with King Hrothgar?"

"I don't know the details. Do you think she was tricked?" Eragon said, looking around for a decent sized rock with which to pound on the entry way.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time Galbatorix tricked someone. Though, last I remember, it was Morzan who was charged with handling the "dwarf problem." Well, get us in." She commanded, gesturing toward the door and throwing him a decent sized rock.

"Reisa du stern. Aí varden abr du shur'tugalar gata vanta," Eragon said, knocking on the stone door. Nothing happened. He tried again. Raya brushed him aside, taking the stone from him.

She pounded the stone once and raised her voice so that it echoed in the cavern. " VRRON! Akh Guntéraz Dorzada, Knurlan! Wharn jordn rast!" She yelled at the door and pounded the stone again.

"What did you say?" Eragon asked, recognizing that Raya had spoken in dwarf.

"I told them to open the damn door," she grumbled. "About time!" She said, as the doorway began to open. A dwarf Eragon didn't recognize stood there looking grumpy.

"Go away, Vanyali. None of you are welcome, in this city of ours. Our politics are not your business." The dwarf grumbled and turned to close the door again. Eragon stuck a hand out to grab the dwarf.

"I am Ingeitum, it is my right in the clan." Eragon looked proud and the dwarf looked annoyed. He was going to argue with them and deny them entrance. A hand descended on the dwarf's shoulder: Orik.

"Eragon, good that you are here. I see you've brought a small army with you." Orik forced the door open, giving the other dwarf a dirty look. "Go away. I will take the care of my foster-brother. He is from OUR clan. Not yours." Orik looked Eragon over, clasping his forearm tightly. He patted Saphira's nose, greeted Roran and Katrina, eyeing Katrina's bright red hair with some interest. When his eyes descended on Tunivor and Raya they nearly popped out of his head.

_Good afternoon, Knurla Orik, _said Tunivor, lowering his head so he was eye level with the dwarf. Orik nodded, so flabbergasted that he couldn't speak. _You will forgive me if I don't come any closer. This place is far smaller than I remember. _

"Last time, you weren't bigger than Isidar Mithrim. Good afternoon Knurla Orik," Raya said, approaching the dwarf. He took in her appearance and that of the white dragon behind her, and gave a deep bow. Raya started to speak in dwarf, leaving everyone completely stunned. Her dwarf was perfect, and the words seemed to flow off her tongue.

The elves were stunned, Roran and Katrina were surprised, and Eragon was completely dumbstruck. Raya spoke quickly, and Orik answered her questions in hushed whispers. He heard them exchange the name 'Anhuin' several times. Orik looked peeved and Raya looked determined. Eragon stood there a moment, twiddling his thumbs as the two talked. Then Raya said something that made Orik look ecstatic.

"Excellent!" Orik exclaimed, "Oh, Wodin will be most pleased. Come, come, you look famished and dead on your feet. Come in, all of you are most welcome, and under the protection and hospitality of Clan Ingeitum." Orik chatted only temporarily with Eragon, so he could learn everyone's names, and turned his attention back to Raya. Tunivor stalked at the back of the group, his man-sized neck spikes catching the tunnel ceiling in some places.

When they walked into the city, it was unlike Eragon's first visit. People moved out of their way, but they did not make an aisle for them. Tunivor looked frustrated with the crowds, and grumbled something about there being far less dwarves last time he was in Farthen Dur. As they passed into Tronjheim, Raya took in the shards of the shattered Star Sapphire, Isidar Mithrim, the star rose. Saphira and Eragon winced when they saw the bits and pieces, as well as the people working to fix it. It was a slow and painful process.

A dwarf passed through a cleared isle of shards and came to stand in front of Orik. He looked at Orik, chastising him, then when his eyes fell on Raya he gave a loud and happy woop! He hugged the White Rider warmly, pulling her into a bear hug. Raya spoke in casual dwarf, smiling as she spoke to the dwarf man.

_I really wish I knew dwarf. _Eragon muttered to Saphira.

_Tunivor has been translating the dwarf for the sake of the elves. Just touch his mind. _Saphira pulled away from Eragons thoughts. He felt stupid. Raya was obvious, but she would never leave her companions in the dark.

"_What happened to the Star Rose?" _Raya asked, looking and pointing in the general direction of Isidar Mithrim.

"_They happened" _the new dwarf responded, pointing at Eragon and Saphira. _"They broke it in their battle against the shade. It was spectacular, but it has pained us greatly." _

_Little Blue one!! _Tunivor chuckled, taking a break from the translations, _My opinion of you has just changed dramatically, Brightscales. Dwarf Wodin, _Tunivor said, turning his attention to the new dwarf. Wodin, the one who had given Eragon a rundown of dwarf politics the night Ajihad died. _I believe that Saphira and I, combined, have the power to fix the star-sapphire, sooner rather than later. We could do this, as a coronation gift to the new king. Provided we… "approve." Elsewise, you'll have to do things the hard way. _

Eragon admired the way the dragon played on the dwarves sympathies, using them towards his own advantage. "Your words hearten me, Tunivor." The dwarf Wodin, seemed to know Raya and Tunivor by first name. "But first, you eat." He grabbed Dahía by the arm and led him down a tunnel toward the dining halls. The elf looked unnerved by Wodin's forwardness, but it appeared Wodin had recognized who he was and was going to take the opportunity to ingratiate himself with the elves.

"Raya," Eragon said, striding up to her, "I didn't know you spoke dwarf so well." He walked next to her and she smiled at him.

"All those years of meeting with King Hrothgar, and you think Vrael just listened to any old interpreter. No, I learned dwarf, and was able to pick out people's sentiments that they hid in their own tongue. I'm not Grimstborth, but I'm as fluent as is possible for a non-dwarf to be." Raya let Roran and Katrina pass her in the tunnel.

"Impressive." Eragon murmured, "But, then again, when are you not?" He was mainly speaking to himself but Raya paused. She turned to face him and put a kiss on his cheek. Eragon felt himself flush.

"Thank you, Eragon. I think you are impressive as well. It takes courage to do what you do." Her lips had held his attention, with their petal softness so easily brushing against his skin, but Eragon found himself drunk on the husky voice escaping from her mouth.

Saphira interrupted his thoughts, _If you dare, look at her hips, I will tear her apart. Then when I am sufficiently done, I shall tear you apart. _She sounded peeved.

Raya took a step away from Eragon and strode quickly toward Orik, giving Eragon a once over with her eyes. Eragon swallowed and turned his thoughts to Saphira. _Does it bother you that much, Saphira? _

_Yes. A dragon's rider must approve. You aren't liking her as an after affect of my thoughts. YOU are liking HER. _Saphira grumbled at him, and Eragon understood why she was wary, even though she was falling head over heels for the dragon. But Raya was not Arya. She was older than Arya, but had only "lived" for 20 of her 120 years. She was wise and intelligent, but not cool tempered and vague. She was a Rider, the White-Rider. That surely was worth something more than Arya?

_Her dragons not that bad either. _Saphira added, thinking about Tunivor. Saphira's thoughts were a flash of images and emotions: Tunivor's amazing aerial fire spiral, the glorious white hide reflecting water and sunlight, and her intense joy that Tunivor had put on his glorious courtship display, muscles tensed and strong. She enjoyed his presence and relished in the attention Tunivor lavished on her, either teachin her or bringing her food. He was excitement and she liked him. But was she too young? Too small? Too immature for the White Drago who was 120 years her senior? Glaedr's refusal, though now explained, still stung and her worries were still there. Was she enough? Was she ever to find the mate that would help their future? Or was she doomed to be alone?

_You are never alone. You have me, and I will always love you. _Eragon patted Saphira, providing her with comforting words. _I'm famished, why have we stopped? _Eragon looked up into the tunnel and saw the problem.

Tunivor was stuck in the tunnels entrance. One of the spikes on his spine had caught the ceiling of the tunnel they were using. He roared as the spike caught, preventing him from moving. He backed up, crouching low, and roared his annoyance at the tunnel. The elves moved past him and Saphira skirted quickly in front of Eragon.

_There is some advantage to being small. Is there not, Diamondhide? _She teased him by fluttering her wings a bit and walking easily into the tunnel. Eragon followed after her.

"It's his spikes, they are getting in the way." Eragon pointed to the gouged up ceiling. Tunivor looked annoyed and gave a mournful roar, and before Eragons eyes, the spines on Tunivor's back collapsed like domino's, gently falling to the side. Tunivor shuffled dejectedly through to the dining hall. "What happened there?"

"Only a male who has lost the battle for a mate he desperately wants, will lower his spines like that. It's a losers posture." Raya grumbled, and walked after her dragon. "And don't you dare tell that to Saphira." She hounded on him and Eragon nodded.

They arrived in the dining hall and were greeted by a lot of dwarves. One table had been set up with so much food, Eragon wondered if the dwarves wouldn't explode from eating it all. There were plates at other tables, and he realized that people could take their plate, then go to the large table and get food to bring back to their seats. Raya saw the place where the elves and Wodin were seated, grabbed her plate and went to get food.

Eragon grabbed his plate and went to get some as well, traveling behind Raya as she observed the bowls, plates, and platters on the table. Eragon noticed that Raya did not hesitate to load her plate up with slow-cooked ribs, meat practically melting off the bone. "Do you think a female could do that? Lower her spines?" Eragon asked, sidling up next to Raya.

"I don't know. Like I said, it's a losers posture," Raya mused, looking over grilled vegetables. It looked like it was mainly peppers, and she added a heap to the side of her plate. Eragon took some. "I imagine she could, provided the right amount of embarrassment."

"You've a healthy appetite," Eragon said, watching as Raya took two biscuits and some green string beans. She saw fried mushrooms and wild onions, and added those too. When Raya looked at him, he pointed to her plate.

"Well, I never turn down hot, homecooked food. At least not when I'm traveling." Raya replied, handing the serving spoon for the fried mushrooms to Eragon. She strolled back to her seat, took up her fork, and placed the first forkful into her mouth. "Ilf gaunith! Guntera's aruna's oen il smer az ignh az voth." She exclaimed it joyfully and the dwarves around her looked surprised, then cheered.

"What did you say?" Eragon asked as Raya smiled around a rib she had dug into with gusto.

"That the food is really tasty." She wasn't translating word for word, but that was the gist of what she'd said. She was enjoying the ribs on her plate. "Oh, dragon blessings," she squealed happily, "Nagra!" She ate another and another, soon only vegetables were left on her plate, all the Nagra was gone. "Those ribs were absolutely sinful. I'm getting more." She made to stand but someone placed a whole plateful of ribs in front of them: Wodin.

"You always enjoyed Nagra." He said, sitting down at Raya's side.

"I always enjoyed the way the dwarves make Nagra." She took another side of ribs and dug into them, not hesitating to lick her fingers when she was done. She turned her fork to her vegetables.

"I didn't know elves could enjoy meat so much," laughed Orik. "Nor have I met one who blesses the food with Guntera's own name." He looked amused at her, remembering Arya and the way she had avoided meat and the argued about the non-existence of the gods.

"I'm not an elf. I'm a Rider." Raya said with a grin, and put a mushroom in her mouth. She chewed as Orik mulled over the thought. "Besides, once upon a time, the elves used to eat meat." Dahía turned to look at Raya, and looked ready to protest. "It's what started the dragon wars: A young elf had hunted down and killed a dragon, thinking it would be like hunting a deer. Why would the elf be hunting deer, except to eat it? Hence, they must have eaten meat at some point."

Eragon looked at Raya, at the elves who were twiddling their thumbs, unable to respond, and then Eragon turned his gaze to Orik and Wodin, who were nodding with some approval at Raya's statement. Raya had made a point, and Eragon had to admire her philosophy on life. As long as she didn't have to kill the beasts personally, she could enjoy all manner of meat and game. Eragon pondered the thought, then, pulled the plate of Nagra ribs toward him.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23: Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin**

After eating about half his weight in Nagra, Eragon settled down to listen to the dwarves talk. Unlike the elves, who were soft spoken and avoided the usual run of gossip, the dwarves loved it and lived on it. After listening for about ten minutes, he found out that there were two young dwarves (from different clans) who had been found "cuddling" in one of the bathing rooms alone on the level of the dragon-hold. Another dwarf had gotten in trouble for striking his brother's wife (he was from Durgrimst Feldunost) and it was such a hot dispute as to whether he had the authority to hit the woman (she was stealing one of his goats at the time) that many wondered if they should just both be punished.

To his left, Eragon tuned in to a variety of dwarf women gossiping. He rarely saw the dwarf women, they tended to avoid him. But they had come out to serve food and to see the female Rider. They admired the beautiful diamond hard scales of her dragon in muted tones and took note of both her necklace (which was called 'tarnished' and 'ugly' to his hearing) and Eragon's ring. They gossiped far more than the men did and it started to hurt Eragon's head to listen to them. He saw two women whispering in a corner, away from the main group. Since Raya was chatting about old friends to Wodin, he extended his mind so he could hear their conversation.

"I don't know if I like her here. She's a distraction to our men," the first woman said, looking at Raya and Eragon with some disdain.

"She's a Rider. That dragon of hers should deter any hopefuls. Who wants a relationship with a person bonded to an animal? Especially a dragon." The second dwarf woman was younger than the first and Eragon could tell that her braided hair was more blonde colored.

"It didn't stop Lowven. The fact that she had Lowven's love is more attracting than their dislike of the damn dragon." The first dwarf woman hissed. She seemed to see Eragon looking at her and turned away, pulling her friend with her.

_Fascinating. _Eragon thought, _Saphira, did you hear that? What do you think that was about? _

_Well isn't it obvious? _Saphira looked around at the group that was settling around them. _She told you she had one lover who was a Rider. The other was neither human nor elf. Honestly, that only leaves a dwarf. I take it you've noticed the increased amount of people in this room? _

_I noticed. _Eragon looked around and found that more people were squished together at tables. It bothered very few: they managed to find a seat and talk, and if they couldn't, they just ate standing. One or two were unnerved by the dragons in their hall, but upon seeing the glittering scales most were too awed to really complain. Tunivor had settled down more comfortably than Saphira, and he had three dwarf children climbing inside his nose.

_Did you also notice the group in the corner? Those veils are awfully familiar. _Saphira let him see through her eyes, since she had a better view of the room. In the corner were several men, all arguing hotly, and they looked angry.

_Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin! _Eragon exclaimed, looking up at Saphira. She nodded discreetly. Eragon prodded Raya in the side. "Forgive me for interrupting your conversation," he said to the group in general, then switched to the ancient language. "Sem soro inoka, Du Tiera abr Anhuin." _There are The Tears of Anhuin. _

She nodded and lazily looked in that direction. "Hljodhro," she whispered to him. _Silence. In the command form. What is she thinking? _"Ekan Fricaiya durin dvergara. Se orum dvergara, onum huildar ai du Shur'tugalar. Se orum, vandr-fodhr." _These are friends, these dwarves. Those dwarves could hold the Riders. They are ill-marked._

Eragon understood why she chose to speak so little: Orik knew enough of the elfin tongue to translate what they were saying. Eragon chose his words carefully. "Sé orum gata ai mor'ranr onno finna?" _Is there a path to find peace? _

"Yes. The path of truth. But it is not an easy one. And it will cause turmoil before it brings peace." Raya looked at Eragon, her green eyes brightening to an almost emerald green. His heart caught in his throat.

Wodin and Orik leaned in to talk to Raya. Orik spoke first, for he had understood both Raya and presumed what Eragon had told her. "I take it you've been told of Anhuin?"

"I've been briefed. But I'd like to know how valid are their claims? Orik, you've told me some. But Wodin, how much do you know?" Raya glanced twice in the direction of the offending dwarves before turning to Wodin. He did not look comfortable speaking in any of the three tongues. Too easily understood. Raya's pupils dilated and Eragon sensed that Raya had approached Wodin's mind. When her eyes hardened and her pupil's constricted, her face became livid.

"Of that I am sure. Though as for its validity, I imagine you would know best." Wodin whispered.

"I do know best. And I know naught at all about this." Raya seethed, and turned toward Tunivor, walking over to him. Eragon watched her as she bid the three dwarf children go, giving each of them a happy hug as they scampered off. Tunivor readjusted his position and gave a room shaking rumble. As the dragon rumbled, Eragon noticed the dwarves' silence, and he stood up when Orik and Wodin did.

"I HAVE A BIT OF AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!" Raya spoke loudly, enunciating in the silence of the room. "Eragon may be here as a member of the Ingeitum, but I am no dwarf! I am here to clear the name of my brethren Riders, and my Master, Lord Vrael." Raya chose her words carefully, and the dwarves paid careful attention to her every move. When her eyes flicked to the corner where Az Sweldn rak Anhuin sat, everyone else chanced a glance in their direction. "From what Eragon has told me, and from what I have learned from Knurla Orik and Grimstborith Wodin, there are groups who believe that they have been wronged by the Rider's."

"NOT BELIEVE!" Shouted one of Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin, he was a younger dwarf, hot-tempered, and had already been held back by his clansmen twice, to keep him from attacking. "WE KNOW! WE WERE WRONGED BY YOUR MASTER!!"

"No." Raya said, her voice dipping into frigid, "I meant to say believe. For beliefs can be wrong. But I know that which is truth, that which is fact." Raya was a far different sight from the angry dwarves of Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin.

"Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin also knows what the truth is! You're master, Lord Vrael," He spit the words out, "bid our Grimstcarvlorss Anhuin, to send her best fighters against Galbatorix. And they were slaughtered! She died from her grief. That is truth!"  
"Anhuin's story is a falsehood." Raya's eyes flashed, but Eragon could hear the coolness of her voice. She was moving into angry, but this was a very different anger than the one she had wielded against Islanzadi. No, she had cold logic and reason in her arsenal and the thought of her debating with an entire dwarf clan, put Eragon on edge. "VRAEL DID NOT ONCE SPEAK WITH GRIMSTCARVLORSS ANHUIN." Her exclamation elicited a series of muttered whispers.

The men of clan Anhuin strode forward, and Eragon noticed the man who had thrown the iron ring at him. Another, who strode far more slowly, was so very old, he looked a good smack would send him into his grave. "He did! We have proof!" Shouted the younger men of the clan.

"Were you there?" Raya asked, but the young dwarves did not answer. "Then you do not have the legitimacy to debate and argue with me. I will speak with one who lived in that time, as I lived, to argue towards the validity of Anhuin's claim."

"I was there." Said the old dwarf, striding forward to face Raya. "I was not so old then, but I knew Anhuin." His voice shook and he looked rather small and frail, but there was a look of old strength to him. He could have been a master fighter, or arms-maker in his youth, but youth had slipped from him.

"Then tell your tale, Grimstborith of the Durgrimst, Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin." Raya spoke with extreme politeness, and Eragon knew that was when she was at her most dangerous. But Raya bowed her head and the old dwarf bowed back.

"Anhuin received an urgent missive from Vrael, begging her to implore her mate, the Grimstborith of the time, to supply soldiers in a battle in the West Beor's. She sent them, and they died." The old dwarf looked pained for, Eragon believed, he had not been sent out to the West Beor's with his brethren, and was still pained by some survivor's guilt. "The missive hangs in our home hall, as the first mark of our clan's tragedy. Upon the death of our kin, Anhuin cried greatly, and soon after, died of heartbreak."

"May I ask a question?" Raya implored politely when she realized the dwarf was finished. The old dwarf nodded. "Let it be known, that the Grimstborith has allowed me to ask him a question," she spoke loudly to the group then turned her attention again to the old dwarf. "I am assuming that your missive was written. My question is this: what language was it written in?"

"The missive was written in dwarf." The old dwarf said succinctly, but Eragon surmised he had a slew of other things he wanted to say.

"Another question?" Raya proposed, and when the old dwarf nodded, she continued, "Was the missive validated by his late majesty, King Hrothgar?"

"The missive requested immediate aid. Anhuin knew Hrothgar was meeting with Vrael, she acted as quickly as she could." The old dwarf said quietly, looking sorrowful.

Raya's eyes flashed in triumph and she cleared her voice. "I am going to say something and I wish to be heard, without interruptions. Will you and your kin agree to this?" Raya was so polite, speaking in a tone that was soft and non-insulting. The old dwarf nodded and his kin grudgingly agreed. "Vrael did not have a single battle plan for the West Beor's. His interests, before his death, lay in securing the coastal cities, and attacking Galbatorix by not allowing him access to moveable resources."

Raya looked at Eragon and then at Tunivor, and Eragon quickly entered the dragons mind. A good move, since Raya had swapped into dwarf. "_I know these plans of Vrael, for I sat with him in every meeting, and was his constant companion. Now, I will admit, that there is some remote possibility that Vrael had some secret battle plans for the Beor's that I did not know of. This brings me to my next point: if there were secret battle plans, they would have been discussed, months ahead of time, with King Hrothgar, with whom Vrael met several times. Should such secret battle plans have existed, which I don't believe they did, Vrael would have sought the approval of King Hrothgar. And I attended all meetings with foreign dignitaries. I would have known of those plans."_

"_Is it possible that the plans were so secret, that Vrael kept them from his apprentice? It is possible, but not likely. I have conceded on many points, and I still know that the letter which hangs in your hall, was not written by Vrael nor authorized to be sent by him. Would you care to know how I know this?" _Raya's argument was one that was well articulated and many of the dwarves in the hall had been listening. Eragon had noticed several concede to her points or look to argue with them, but had looked silently intrigued when Raya had offered irrefutable proof. Eragon himself wished to know what this proof was.

"_Very well, I shall tell you: Vrael could not read, nor write, nor speak in the dwarf tongue." _Raya's statement was so simple, yet it caused an angry buzzing to rip through the hall.

"_I was not only Vrael's apprentice. In the later years, I became his translator. Who will deny that my dwarf is as good as any Grimstborith's? None. Vrael knew only the most embarrassingly basic of the dwarf tongue. Basic greetings, requests for more food, or perhaps a question for directions. Nor could he read or write in your language. Vrael was born an elf, and he could read, speak, and write in elf. He rarely spoke in the human tongue, and had no need to use your runes to write in it. More importantly, the language of the Rider's, is Elf. Why should he speak, read, or write, in any other language?" _

"This is impossible." Said the old dwarf, stumbling backwards slightly. "That missive was from Vrael. It had his signature and his seal."

"If that missive was written in your tongue, then only I could have written it." Responded Raya, her face almost smug with the knowledge that she was winning this argument. "Few Rider's spoke it. And even less could write it. If the message came from Vrael, it would have been written in my hand. And I have no memory of ever writing a missive for Anhuin. Thus it could not be from Vrael."

"But it had his signature, and his seal. The seal of the Rider's." The old dwarf said, more fervently this time. "It must be from him. You said yourself some other Rider's could write in out tongue, maybe it was through one of them?"

"I have not seen this document, but I knew Vrael's signature as well as I knew my own. I would have to see it. But my argument would be, thus: did you check the letter for forgery? Was there another document written by Vrael, to which you could compare the script? As for the seal of the Rider's, that has been hidden away since I was a small child. Vrael himself hid it. I know where it is hidden, but it lies hidden beneath your very halls. Would Vrael sign and send a document, from here, without telling Hrothgar? Eta, no. As for the other Rider, for there was only one other Rider who could speak and write your tongue. And he may have done it, but not in Vrael's name." Raya looked pained thinking about it but, so far, all of her arguments had been well stated, well validated, and had almost completely destroyed the claim of Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin. Just this one last question, and they were home free.

"We will be the judge of that. Who was the other Rider?" Asked the old dwarf.

"The First of the Wyrdfell. The Forsworn. The Red Rider, Morzan knew how to write and speak in your tongue." Raya's voice was cold and hollow and she looked both angry and upset with Morzan. Eragon noticed it but he didn't think anyone else did.

"Clever bastard," grumbled Wodin from behind Eragon. _How? _Thought Eragon. _How in the name of all that was good, could Morzan know the dwarf tongue? _

"I have admitted many possibilities, and even in the most extreme, I have shown that Vrael was innocent. I do not attack your people, who died fighting against Galbatorix. I am grieved that they died. However, Vrael was innocent. And I can say, with little remorse, that this could have been avoided. Anhuin reaped a disgusting reward." Several dwarves cried out, wondering what Anhuin could have done to deserve such a thing to happen to her people.

"Hear me out! Please! Hear me out. To you, Anhuin was a martyr, a selfless woman who died from grief. But in life, all knew Anhuin: she was overly ambitious, while being secretive to the point of subversive. How many times had she thwarted the Kings plans to expand the tunnels in her terrain, only for her to have the tunnels built herself? Whoever sent that missive, knew Anhuin was greedy and ambitious. Knew that she would never share the knowledge of the missive with his majesty, so if her clan won the battle, they would receive all the glory. Whoever sent it, knew Anhuin was secretive enough, that she would never check the missive's validity with the King."

"It would have taken one message, via mirror, for her to find out from Hrothgar, was it valid. And all of this could have been avoided. Anhuin was foolhardy, she was reckless and selfish. There were a number of things she should have done, could have done, but didn't. And for her error, her people died. She could have easily have died from the dishonor, of killing her people with her own selfishness, as easily as dying from grief." Raya's voice was clear and strong and Eragon could see the entire room was captivated by her.

"It is horrible. But you have, for the past century, blamed the wrong person. Blamed the wrong Rider. Take back your iron-ring, which was thrown against Eragon. For he has done nothing to insult you. He never once wished you harm. Notice he still has the Ingeitum helm, given to him by Hrothgar, but bears no ties to elves. And only his loyalty to Nasuada of the Varden. But he chose to be part of a dwarf family. Is he truly bad? If you must be angry at someone, be angry at Galbatorix for his trickery, not at Vrael and not at Eragon." Raya looked around at all the dwarves, many had started muttering to themselves and Eragon knew, better than he knew his own name, that this information would change the decisions and ties of the dwarf kingship.

Eragon's eyes flitted to the old dwarf, who looked like his heart was about to stop from the shock. His people held him up as one dwarf stormed forward. "YOU LIE, ELF! ALL YOU DO IS LIE! FIRST YOU DISCREDIT OUR GODS, THEN YOU DISCREDIT OUR HISTORY. WHAT NEXT? WILL YOU CLAIM THE ELVES WERE FIRST IN ALAGAESIA?"

Raya's face was deathly calm. She turned her vivid green eyes on the dwarf and he froze in place, still ready to start shouting. "I believe in the Gods." Raya said it so simply, but again, it sent a shockwave through the assembled dwarves. Who would've thought it? An elf who believed in the Gods? "There is too much in our world that cannot be some great cosmic coincidence. It is too organized. The Gods can only be, real. We, as mortals, are too young, too weak, and too stupid to understand the power and nature of Gods. But they do exist. In the meantime, we can only live the life we have been given, as honorably as we can, as best as we know how. I would hold myself responsible for my deeds, but I do believe in the Gods."

The elves, the dwarves, and Eragon were flabbergasted. If Saphira had turned into Shruikan, they would have been less surprised. If Hrothgar had woken up and done a tap dance, they would have been less surprised. "Do you really, truly, think so?" asked Eragon aloud, looking at Raya in shock.

"A hundred years asleep gives you a lot of time to think. I do not come to these conclusions lightly: but after a lifetime of thought. But yes, I am firm in my belief." Raya's eyes flashed, warning him to not ask these questions now, and to save them for later. "I do not wish to discredit dwarf history. I am, in fact, most intrigued by your people." Raya glanced in the corner where the two women had been gossiping about her, and Eragon saw one woman blush profusely. "But Anhuin's story, though true on her behalf, is not true from mine. I simply wish to add to her story, and I will let you be the judge."

"Then we judge your story to be a lie." Grumbled one dwarf from Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin.

"You cannot judge the truth of something. That is not up for judgment. What is under judgment is whether your treatment of the current generation of Riders is biased and unfair based on a preconceived notion of personal history. Eragon is not Vrael, he has done nothing to wrong you. Yet you hate him, unjustly I might add. He is as unique an individual as you, or me, or Tunivor, or Anhuin, or Guntera. Would you like it if every dwarf was judged based on Hirogar, who slew his brother? Or Sabiyan, who viciously killed all who opposed him? No."

"I know that you choose your king tonight. I will not be so bold as to say I endorse one candidate over another. But I will propose this: Choose a King tonight, not based on clan ties and inter personal bickering. Choose a King, based on whom you think would do what is really and truly best for all dwarf-kind. A king who understand the politics which play around in our ever-complicated world, and who knows how to handle those forces. That is what I wish to say. Guntera's Blessings on all of you." With that, Raya stood down and returned to her seat.

"That was very wise, Rider Raya," said Orik, looking at her. "You are right: too often, we bicker about personal clan ties when we should be objectively picking a King, one who will do our people proud, and one who will fight for us and with us. Like Hrothgar did."

"Knurla Orik, it has been some time since I was last in Tronjheim. But is there someone who can escort me to the baths, and later, to the dragon hold?" Raya put a hand to her temple, as though she had a headache. Orik himself led Raya away, Tunivor following them both, pausing only to grumble at the tunnel, and lower his spines. The elves remained for a while, listening to the dwarves around them chatter.

Eragon looked at Wodin. "As the Grimstborith of Clan Ingeitum, are you up for the Kingship?" Eragon asked, looking at the dwarf. He was not old, but he was not young either. He had listened to Raya, and understood her. He had known the politics of the clans as well as understood the campaigns of the Varden. He had admitted that it was wise for Eragon to swear fealty to Nasuada individually, and not just the Varden.

"I am." Said Wodin, trying to figure out Eragons thoughts.

"Then as a member of the clan Ingeitum, you have my support for the Kingship." Eragon said, standing up to bow to Wodin. "If you will forgive me Knurla Wodin, I know I cannot vote in the clan, and I presume the final debates for the Kingship will go on for many hours tonight, but I too wish to retire for the evening. Blessings on all of you, may you chose wisely and fairly tonight, and may the stars shine on you, personally." Eragon gave one more bow and after a glance at Roran and Katrina, he left the hall, to head up to the dragon hold.

Saphira flew them up, and they ran into Orik, who was on his way out. "I will come, personally, to alert you once the kingship is decided. In the meantime, you must be exhausted. Rest." Orik clapped Eragon on the shoulder and continued down the hall. Raya had a small bag with her, no doubt a change of clothes, and a flickering torch, to head toward the baths.

"It appears Tronjheim and Farthen Dur have not changed much. I shall take a bath and proceed into the library. There is a spell I wish to recheck." Raya looked tired.

"Well, I'll bathe later. I want to unpack a bit. I know we'll be in Farthen Dur at least a few days. Afterwards, I'll take a nap." Eragon said, moving to let her pass. Raya walked easily past him, the torch held high enough. He watched her walk away, each step causing her hips to sway. Eragon felt a thought creep into his mind, but dismissed it quickly.

_Dwarf lover. Rider lover. Dunspar is attracted to her. And Dukat of the odd eyes wants her. There's no way I can compete. _Eragon thought, miserably.

_Don't be so hard on yourself, Eragon. _Tunivor's voice came easily into his mind. _You'd be surprised what she thinks of you. _

_Normally, I'd want to know. But it can wait. I'm beat and I want a nap. _He walked over to the bed he'd had the last time he was with the dwarves. There were several more sleeping mats and pillows piled in a corner for his companions. Eragon took off his shirt and went straight to sleep.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: Isidar Mithrim**

A loud clanging woke, very early the next morning, jolted Eragon from his sleep. Jubilations of joy echoed through Tronjheim and Eragon knew that the new King had been chosen. He needed only to open his mind to feel Orik coming, and only to open his mind a bit further to know the name of the new King.

"So, Wodin is King?" Eragon asked as Orik ran into the dragon-hold.

"Yes! It's fantastic! He's all ready to make his decisions as King, including resending the dwarves to aid the Varden, and sending another large contingent to attack from the side. Then, of course, there are chats that involve searching the underground vaults, and opening the hall of records to all the dwarves. Oh, it'll be good. Wodin is a good man. Smart, energetic, and not too old. He will be an excellent King. Raya's speech was the lifesaver though. It changed the mind of several clan chiefs who would couldn't decide." Orik jabbered and threw clothes at Eragon, encouraging to hurry along.

_We should go meet King Wodin,_ Saphira suggested. _As a very illustrious adopted cousin, Eragon's praise and well wishes should be worth something. _Saphira snapped her tail at Tunivor. The dragon continued to snore. Saphira passed by the dragon, running her neck along his side, and then drifting back to where she was originally standing. When she snapped her tail again, and Tunivor's head snapped up.

But he didn't look at Saphira. He looked out of the dragon hold and his eyes were distant. He was undoubtedly talking to Raya. Tunivor stood quickly, walking urgently to the ledge where the dragon hold opened out into Tronjheim. He nodded and came back inside. _Eragon, you are to go down to Tronjheim with Knurla Orik. Bring your good clothes with you. And your belt and sword. _Tunivor turned toward Saphira, he walked up to her, covering ground quickly, and laid his neck on Saphira's side. _You will come with me, Saphira. If this is to be done properly, we cannot dally. _He lifted his head and neck from her side and left the cave. _Saphira, now please?_

_Right behind you! _Saphira said, walking towards the ledge. _He hugged me. It was quick, but it was a hug, _she told Eragon. He imagined if she'd been a teenage girl, she'd have giggled and blushed. Saphira took off from the ledge, soaring over Tronjheim and out of sight.

"Well, I don't usually obey dragon orders, but this is one I'm going to insist on. Get your things Eragon, and let's go downstairs quickly. The other elves are already down there." Orike led the way and Eragon followed quickly behind the dwarf. They managed to come to the amphitheatre from a side entrance. Wodin stood on a platform in the middle, like all the Kings before him. There were specific individuals who were displeased with Wodin's appointment, but he took the title of King with honor and pride.

Raya appeared out of nowhere and stopped Eragon. "Go, Knurla Orik, and tell Wodin we will be at the Dome of Tronjheim, and await him at the remains of the Star-Sapphire. Tell them to come, all of them, and to keep the King's pathway clear. Come on, Eragon." She grabbed him by the hand and started to jog in the direction of Tronjheim. She was joined quickly by Dahía, Ankee, and Tona, who were jogging at an easy pace as Raya and Eragon raced for the Star Sapphire.

"What are we going to do?" Eragon asked, as they slid to a stop in front of the Dome of Tronjheim. Raya threw open the doors and with a muttered word, took them off their hinges. Dahía sang the stones on the steps to take the doors as a platform. Eragon looked again at Raya, she was setting up a path, wide enough for Tunivor to walk down. Both dragons flew over head, something in their claws, and into the dragon hold.

"We're helping the dragons repair the Star Rose." Raya gestured at the shards of what had once been the beautiful blood-red stone. Eragon felt his jaw drop.

"Now? Today? How?" Eragon asked, watching as Raya pulled a small bag from her waist. She grinned at him.

"Strip." She commanded him. Eragon didn't think he heard her. "Not all the way, but you aren't going to be wearing all those clothes. Bare feet, bare torso, no leggings. Quickly." She commanded again.

"Why specifically, are we doing this?" Eragon asked her, not budging. He didn't mind people seeing him naked while he was in the bath. Everyone took a bath naked. But he'd be almost buck naked in front of the entire dwarf populace.

"The spell demands complete freedom from restraints. And that means nudity. Besides, the amount of energy we will use will make us very warm. Clothes will be uncomfortable. Now, I said strip." Raya commanded him. "Oh, and I want you up to your eyeballs in magic. Take if from the gems of your belt, from the gems in your sword, from wherever you need to get it from. But I want you brimming with magic when I come back."

Eragon stood dumbfounded, but when he saw Dahía and Ankee strip, without batting an eye, Eragon stripped down to his loincloth (which mercifully, was what Dahía and Ankee were wearing). He picked up his sword and pulled all the magic he had stored in the hiltstones from the blade. There was more than he remembered, and for a brief second Eragon wondered if there was still some energy left over from the First Eragon. He took up the belt of Beloth the wise, and quickly removed the magical energy stored in all the gemstones. It was quickly giving him a headache. It was too much magic to have just floating around in his body. But it was there, and he had obeyed Raya's directions to the letter.

Dahía and Ankee were speaking in elf: Dahía had lifted all the shards of the star sapphire, but it was Ankee who was feeding the small spell. Tona drew a large circle into the floor and Dahía lowered the shards. Eragon realized that Tona had stripped entirely, and he averted his eyes for a minute, hoping that her nude state wouldn't give the other two elves any ideas. She didn't. In fact, they encouraged her to put on a loincloth as children might be in the crowd.

Raya showed up again, and she handed something to each of the elves, situating them at different points, still in a circle, but outside of the Dome where the Star Sapphire's shards lay strewn on the floor. They were out in the open. Raya stripped on the spot as well, laying her clothes off to the side. She sashayed over to Eragon, a smirk fixed on her face.

"Brimming up to your eyeballs?" she asked. Eragon nodded, trying to keep his eyes from looking anywhere but her eyes. "Take these. Left hand first." He extended his left hand to her, and Raya dropped a tiny rose blossom, no bigger than his thumb, into his palm. "Right hand" she said, and he extended his right hand, and he felt her fingers glide over his Gedwey Ignasia. She placed a tiny gem, the exact color of Isidar Mithrim. It might have been just a small star sapphire, for he could see the spark or 'star' in the gem.

He looked down at the two objects in his hands. Star Sapphire. And a Red Rose. _How appropriate. _He looked up at Raya, but in doing so took in the sight of her nude torso, and he lost his breath for a moment. She was beautiful, her skin glowing with the magic she was calling to the surface. Her skin was warm and for a brief moment, he wanted to reach out to touch her. He took notice of a rose shaped tattoo on her right hip, but found himself too tongue-tied to ask her any questions. He looked away quickly.

"No need to be so embarrassed, Eragon." She said, and he could hear her grinning. He didn't have to see it. Eragon turned and looked at her face. She was grinning. "I have the better view anyway. You're a treat with your shirt off." She gave him a wink and Eragon felt the flush creep over his skin. It wasn't that he didn't like it. He appreciated, nay enjoyed her open flirtation. But what did he say? Nice skin? Why not?

"I may be the treat, but it's you everyone will be looking at." Eragon said, with a small smile. "Your skin is a glory to behold." Eragon looked over at the three elves of the Vinr Alfakyn. Both men turned their gaze away, but Tona gave him a wicked smile. "Where do I stand?"

"Between Dahía and Ankee." Raya said with a grin. Eragon looked at the conformation they'd be standing in. Dahía on his right, Ankee on his left, Raya and Tona perfectly in his sight. Raya just between Ankee and Tona, with Tona next to Dahía. Eragon exhaled with some trepidation. "Go on, take your spot. It wouldn't do if I denied Tona her eyeful."

Eragon swallowed a bit and wandered over to the three elves. Raya looked out, and saw the crowds building. When Wodin walked onto their platform he gave Raya an appraising look. She gave him a smile. Eragon could see Roran and Katrina from his spot, and he shuddered at the thought of what Roran would say to him when this was done. Raya walked around the circle and pulled Dahía's pony tail out, so that his long blonde hair fell around his shoulders. She did the same to Ankee. Then pulled the tie out of her hair. Eragon had to force back a smile at the sight of Raya's glistening brown locks. After her shower, they were slightly static-y and formed a glistening halo around her face. He liked the sight.

A loud screeching filled the air, and people looked up to see Saphira flying overhead. She followed the passage which had been left free of people and perched on a rooftop at the end of it. She sat on her haunches, her neck extended high into the air. She keened, an unearthly sound emanating from her throat. Fire roared in her belly and Eragon could see she was glowing. He imagined if anyone touched her, they'd burn their hand on her scales. She continued her keening, swaying her head from side to side, her wings outstretched. Her color had deepened, parts of her shimmered a deep blue, the kind which would make the ocean and lakes envious, and parts of her glinted with an almost purple color that the dwarves would kill to have, and amethysts cried for they could not be that exact color.

Tunivor flew overhead and landed on the sides of the dome, in the groove which had once held the great Star-Rose. He keened as well, an unearthly and frightening sound, like the air just before a storm broke, or the wind when it whispered over the grasses on the plains. He glowed white hot, like he had when he had during the First Offering. His scales glowed with the light, tossing rainbow prisms onto the houses near him, as the light refracted through his scales. His blood raced through his veins, streaking his wings with red and blue lines as he extended his wings outward and upward.

Dwarves around them gasped and sighed at the sight of both dragons, unable to decide which was more beautiful. Saphira stopped keening and started to shriek, and she flapped her wings, but stayed in place. Eragon felt Dahía take his hand. Raya had set it up so each set of connected hands had one small rose and one star-sapphire. Both seemed to dig into Eragon's palms and he knew that sooner or later, one would draw blood.

Saphira flapped her wings again shrieking, and when the sun exploded into the hole in the roof of Farthen Dur, she launched herself from the roof of the building. She flapped her wings hard, building speed quickly. She flew directly at the doors to the Dome of Tronjheim. Her keening and shrieking had stopped and the people watched in awe as the beautiful Saphira soared past them. She gained more speed and aimed for the door. Normally, she wouldn't fit, especially with her wings extended. But at the last possible moment, Saphira clamped her wings through her side, and zoomed through the doorway and exploded through the nonexistent roof, spreading her wings wide as she soared past Tunivor, driving her wings down hard as she flew upward.

On the floor of the dome, the shards of Isidar Mithrim began to rise, the big ones fitting together perfectly. Electric blue threads extended from Saphira's scales all the way down to the millions of tiny shards of the Star-Rose. The higher she flew the faster they flew into place, and the stronger the blue threads connecting her to the stone. She was starting to strain, but she kept flying, until every single piece of the Star-Stone was back in place. At one point, high above the city, so high she was almost halfway between the ground and the top of Farthen Dur, Saphira stopped. She strained and flapped her wings hard, but she flew no higher. Eragon noticed that not a speck of red dust from the Star-Rose remained on the floor.

Tunivor gave a rumbling bellow which extended into a deep, earth shaking roar. He reached in, touched his nose to the Star-Rose, and launched himself into the air, his powerful legs pushing him high enough for him to start flapping his wings. He flapped his great white wings steadily gaining height faster than Saphira had. As he flew, Isidar Mithrim began to rise, tied to Tunivor with a crackle of lightning white sparks. He flew hard, the magic binding him to the stone and the stone began to move.

When Tunivor was of even height to Saphira, Isidar Mithrim was back at roof level, where it had once stood, the pride of all the dwarves. Raya urged the five of them to the circle beneath the Star-Rose. If it fell, it would smash them all. But Raya wasn't nervous. The elves began to hum, each picking a note and sticking to it. Raya opened her mouth and actually sang her note, high, liquid, and crystalline. Eragon didn't sing much, but he picked up on a note that was between Dahía, whose was very deep, and Ankee's whose was a bit more of a man's tenor. Eragon chose his note and hummed, and the magic inside of him moved. He felt it loosen from him and start to twist into Dahía, just as Ankee's magic spilled into him: the elf was a powerhouse. He had more magical energy at his disposal than Dahía and Eragon combined.

The magic began to flow, moving between them like a current. Raya's consciousness joined with his, and his initial instinct was to throw up the barriers of his mind. _Now, we hold. _And with a combined effort, the magic literally _whooshing_ up between all of them, they filled the cracks of Isidar Mithrim, holding it in place. Eragon wondered if they would be the ones to fix the Star Rose, but brushed the thought away. He felt the magic coursing in his veins, and the tiny gemstone pricked into his palm, digging into his Gedway Ignasia. In his other hand, the rosebud felt sticky.

As soon as Saphira and Tunivor felt their Riders holding the Star-Rose, they began to roar. Saphira's roars were almost shrieks, but as she roared more and more, they became deeper, and flames spurted from her mouth. With an almighty bellow, Saphira let loose a pillar of blue flame which struck the middle of the Star-Rose. Eragon heard the dwarves gasp, but let the thought flit from his mind. Saphira's roar continued and the pillar of blue fire turned shockingly clear, with only the very edges flickering in blue. Eragon knew that when a fire was that color, it was dangerously hot. But, for a dragon, it seemed to hold a degree of magic with it.

Tunivor's roar was next. His roar was lilting, getting higher and lower. When flames shot from his mouth in a test try, it twisted. When he managed to get the roars just right, he too aimed at Isidar Mithrim, and a spiral of white hot flame twisted around Saphira's sparkling pillar: literally a serpent of white fire.

The fire held for several minutes and turned into a jet of magic. Then with a rumble, the dragons dived. They fell like two stars, burning and glowing with their own heat. Many screamed but the flame and magic stayed on the Star Rose: Eragon looked up and saw Isidar Mithrim was a bright and glowing red. People wondered how long would the dragons fall unchecked when, mere feet from smashing into Isidar Mithrim, they closed their mouths and looped sideways. Saphira turned toward the pathway which had been cleared for her earlier and Tunivor flew over the city, clipping a roof with his tail.

Eragon was shaking with the effort of holding up the stone against the dragon-magic. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and was swaying on the spot. Raya's voice rose out from the edges of his consciousness. "NOW TO PLACE THE STAR-ROSE!" she yelled it and raised her hands into the air. Eragon felt his lift and, their minds working as one, they lowered the magma-hot stone back into the dome where it had once been, working the edges with magic so that they melded with the wall and the roof of the dome. Unless someone had the magic to break their binding, the stone would never again shatter like it had before.

With a triumphant shout from Raya, the stone settled, cooled and was finally visible from the underside. It looked magnificent. As magnificent as it had when he'd first seen it. Eragon's arms dropped, letting the crushed rosebud and little star-sapphire fall to the floor. He heard, rather than saw, the others drop theirs. Eragon could barely stand. He looked at his palms and found them both bleeding. He felt Ankee go around the group, muttering _Waise Heill,_ until everyone had a tiny, star shaped scar on their palm. Eragon stumbled outward. And rammed into Tunivor's side.

_Get on, you are all covered in sweat. Bathe quickly while Saphira and I handle this. _Eragon grabbed his clothes and all five of them clambered onto the dragons back. He was flown up to the dragon hold, and pushed towards the bath. Once he felt the warm, slightly salty water against his skin, Eragon relaxed and his energy returned to him. He was acutely conscious of the fact that there were three elves and one very naked Raya in the bath with him, but he found that he didn't really care. (Well, except maybe for Raya).

They got out quickly and dressed in the dark. Eragon went back to the dragon hold, to run a comb through his hair. Raya was the first thing he was aware of once he had finished combing his hair. She wore a longer, emerald green tunic, which clung to her sides and emphasized her luminous green eyes. Soft brown leggings and dark brown boots complemented the tunic. At her side, the blue-black blade of Dorev, hung glimmering without its sheath. Eragon saw the blades edge had been blocked. With its sparkling gem-like color, it was the perfect accessory.

Eragon imitated Raya, pulling Il'hen from its sheath, something he hadn't done in a while. His elfin flying companions had seen the blade at Eragon's waist, but none had actually seen the blade. When they did, Tona gasped, twisting her hand over her breastbone in a gesture of deep respect. She murmured his name, followed by a number of honorifics.

"Don't mind her," Raya said while she used Eragons comb on her long locks. "You look very nice in that tunic, Eragon." She said, handing the back the comb. "It's a good color." He had chosen a cinnamon colored tunic (deciding that cinnamon was something between brown and red—not red entirely, since he didn't really like red that much at the time being). Deep brown, almost black leggings, and slick pair of knee high black boots finished the ensemble. The white sword glimmered at the belt of Beloth the Wise. With a glance at the three elves, who were still fiddling with their appearance, Eragon walked out of the dragon hold.

Saphira and Tunivor were on the edge, chowing down on a pile of animals that they had caught, and by the look of things, blooded. They were done, so quickly, that Eragon was surprised that they could fly. Saphira had put away a whole cow and two medium sized goats. While Tunivor managed to finish off two deer, a small cow, and one good sized pig. Tunivor made sure there was no meat in his teeth or on his face and took them all down to the base of Isidar Mithrim.

As the two dragons flew over the city, people cheered all of their names, but especially Saphira's and Tunivor's. When they landed, hundreds threw flowers at the dragons, one little dwarf girl climbing up onto Saphira's face, and putting a ring of them on her spikes. Both dragons basked in the adoration of the dwarves who called them all manner of names, like "shining star," "Sapphire Rose," or "Blue Star," and "Aiedail's light" and any number of glorious remarks were made about their scales and their flames and magic, and how absolutely wonderful they were.

Orik was crying unashamedly. Every time he looked at the Star-Sapphire, or Eragon, or Saphira, fresh tears leaked from his eyes. Wodin beamed, his joy evident in his salutations. He pulled Eragon into a bone crunching hug.

"I would hug your dragons, but I cannot seem to reach them," he spoke loudly in Eragon's ear, to be heard over the tumultuous cheering of the crowd.

"Raya and I greet you, King Wodin. It was our honor and pleasure to assist in the rebuilding of Isidar Mithrim. May its repair be a mark of your reign." Eragon said back loudly, feeling the joy of the people give him new strength. It made him giddy.

"Mercy and Peace," Raya said, kissing Wodin on each cheek. "We hope you find a comfortable spot in that throne and rule well for many years." Wodin hugged her and pulled Eragon in for another hug.

"You two must be starving! To the feasts!" He called out to the entire city, and people cheered again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25: A Snap in the Blood**

The feast that afternoon was sumptuous and it carried on well into the late night. Rather than being held in the dining halls, the dwarves had carted all the fighting equipment off the training fields, and set up table after table of food. If that weren't enough, there were picnic blankets set up to the sides, and a slew of musicians from the Clan Ingeitum had taken a spot just off the main table.

Eragon, as a Dragonrider and member of Clan Ingeitum, was seated at the main table with Wodin and several other high ranking Ingeitum dwarves. Hrothgar's direct family, including Orik, were seated at the next table over, and all other honorary guests (including the elves, Roran and Katrina, and Raya) were seated at that table. Eragon could see Raya out of the corner of his eye and he thought it was silly that he had been pulled away from his companions. But he paid some attention to Wodin and to the dwarves around him.

Meanwhile, Saphira and Tunivor had taken a comfortable spot towards the side, and there was a large crowd of dwarf children there, singing and laughing. Several were bringing long strands of ribbon and chains of flowers, and attaching them in ridiculous configurations onto the dragons neck spikes, and facial spines. Saphira had grumbled at first, but upon seeing the way Tunivor handled it, she softened. The children were like puppies, climbing all over the two dragons, kissing them, and calling for their attention. Tunivor lavished time and smiles on each child, and allowed them to climb all over his face. One went up to spot where Raya's saddle would go, and called out to anyone who would hear that he was going to be the first dwarf rider.

When the music started up, Eragon watched in an amused way as the dwarf women appeared from the crowd, forming a half circle in the open dance floor. The music started out very slowly, and it looked as though the dwarf women weren't going to go anywhere, just meander in the clearing, when the music sped up, to a very upbeat tempo, the dwarf women pulled out scarves, and started a rapid quickstep. The steps weren't complicated, and through watching, Eragon saw a pattern, but they were so fast, and so coordinated, that the sight was one that was very impressive.

Just as Eragon was getting bored, a slew of young dwarf men ran forward, with whoops of laughter and added to the dance. They had their own pattern of footwork (again, nothing too complicated) but so completely coordinated, Eragon wondered if the dances were planned, or if everyone simply knew them by heart. He didn't see any dwarves that he recognized, but he could see people were enjoying the energetic dancing.

The dances continued, each relatively playing out the same sequence of steps, but Eragon noticed that the dwarf girls looked different, like they were from different clans each time. Eragon wondered if the first group had been Ingeitum. He asked Wodin.

"Was the first group Ingeitum?" Eragon asked quietly, leaning over to whisper in Wodins ear.

"No, they're up in a few minutes. Have you seen our dances before?" Wodin said back, not bothering to whisper.

"I'm afraid not. This is the first time I'm seeing them. Does everyone just know these steps?" Eragon asked, putting forward the first question which had come into his mind.

"Yes. Our boys and girls learn them very young. Some become very good at them, some less so. But they are danced at every birthday, wedding, and any other happy occasion, such as this." Wodin clapped as the existing dancers were switched out with a new one. "The one after this should be Ingeitum."

"How do you pick the dancers?" Eragon asked.

"Pick them? We don't. Whoever wants to dance can dance, provided they can find a partner." Wodin was smiling as the gentlemen came out with more whoops, almost like they were trying to scare the women, but the ladies knew it was coming. People clapped and laughed at the young dwarves' antics.

When the group changed, Eragon sat up to watch the Ingeitum dancers. He looked to see if Raya was watching. She'd no doubt seen all this before, but still, each dance team did something different. Eragon noticed from his seat that Raya was no longer at the table, and neither was Orik. When the women came forward in their part of the dance, Raya had jumped into the group. The younger women didn't seem to mind her there.

Her footwork was as good as any dwarf ladies, and they were moving fast. When they pulled out a scarf, Raya used a strand of glittering magic to take the place of the scarf. When the men came running out, Eragon noticed Orik was dancing with his beloved Hvedra. Eragons eyes scanned the group as the men danced: Raya wouldn't have a partner. It took one glance, and Eragon made the split second decision to move.

"Excuse me King Wodin," Eragon grumbled, passing quickly through the crowd until he was near Raya. "You know, you're supposed to have a partner before you start dancing."

"There were always extras. I guess less brave souls this year." Raya said, quickly showing him the step.

"I noticed it when I was at the main table. I can do it." Eragon said, not believing he was about to do this.

"Yes, but can you do it fast enough?" Raya said, her eyes twinkling. Eragon grunted at her and showed her that, with his elfin skill, he could indeed do the footwork at the same speed the dwarves did. "Good. You're up." She pushed him into the line of dwarves just behind Orik. Eragon could hear the music, and he could see the steps Orik was doing in front of him, and he mimicked them, falling only a second behind the dwarves. Once he had picked up the rhythm of the dance with the rhythm of the music, Eragon was fine.

As he turned to face the line of girls, he noticed that people were watching him in the line of dwarves, including Wodin and his fellow Grimstborith. Raya's eyes were laughing at him. He came forward, leaning in to her as the dance required.

"Something wrong?" he asked, wondering if he'd ruined something by coming out here like this.

"They're watching you. Me too, but I'm not Ingeitum. If you can do this, you might as well be clan." Raya whispered, pulled back from him, throwing her hands in the air and skipping around him. When Eragon knelt as he was supposed to, he spoke again.

"But so what? Any elf can move this fast." He glanced into the part of the crowd where the three Vinr Alfakyn stood watching.

"They have their own dances. And humans can't dance this fast. Only the dwarves do this. You doing it, means you are Ingeitum in custom and practice, as well as in name." Raya spun only inches from him, and he clapped his hands near her feet, watching the speed at which she moved. Unlike the dwarf women, she was very much dressed as an elf, wearing leggings, boots and a tunic, whereas the dwarf women all wore skirts and dainty slippers.

He and Raya finished the dance, and pulled out from the group. Orik was up next to them in a blink. "Well done, Eragon!" he clapped Eragon soundly on the shoulder and gave Raya a smile.

"I can move just as fast as you, dwarf-brother," Eragon teased, putting an arm around Orik's shoulders. Every few feet, Eragon was stopped by the Ingeitum dwarves, complimenting his speed, and offering their congratulations that he had learned the dances so well.

"When did you have time to practice? Surely not amongst the elves?" joked one dwarf, and Eragon shrugged. Raya was equally complimented, but because she wasn't Ingeitum, the compliments weren't nearly as profuse as Eragons. He found her a bit later, and handed her a glass with what had tasted like mead in it.

"Thirsty?" he asked her, extending one of the cups.

"Yes! Please and thank you," she said, taking the cup from him. "Hmm. Not a year I recognize. Perhaps this is more recent. It's become more floral, more fruity since I left." She commented, taking a sip. Eragon leaned on the clearing wall behind her and Raya turned to face him. "Not too warm from the dancing are we?"

"A little too warm from everything. There must be a hundred thousand dwarves here. All of them dancing around, I wouldn't be surprised if steam was escaping from the top of Farthen Dur. Then the dancing, and the food, and the mead." Eragon took a sip from the cup, noticing the fruity taste.

"Tired already?" she asked, leaning against the wall. Eragon had leaned there, knowing the stone would be cooler than the tables. He had been right.

"Not in the slightest. Just warm. Especially with you standing inches from me." Eragon said it, and bit his tongue as it came out. Maybe no mead for him. He'd only had a few sips and he was already far too loose tongued. He could see Raya's face, but couldn't read her expression. She leaned into him, placing a palm flat on his shoulder.

"I make you warm?" she giggled into his ear. "Is this too close to you?" Her eyes were laughing and smiling and Eragon could feel the spot where she was pressing onto his shoulder. But she wasn't close, no. Her hips, stomach, and legs were all about a foot away, and though she was close enough to whisper, she wasn't 'too close.' Eragon pondered his next move. He could push her away. He could tell her he was uncomfortable with the idea of her in his arms. But he could also pull her closer. That he could be comfortable with her closeness.

"No," he imagined the way Dukat had put his (her?) hands at Raya's hips and pulled her in close. Eragon knew what he was doing and was conscious of his limbs doing the same thing, but he didn't recall sending them the message to do it. His hands snaked out to Raya's hips and tugged her closer: she fell into him, laughing. His arm floated around her easily, holding her pressed to him. Raya didn't pull away and Eragon felt his heart lift, no, he felt his heart soar.

"Feeling frisky?" she asked, putting her arms around his neck and pushing her hands into his hair. She smiled at him, her grin reminding Eragon very much of the grins Dukat had sent his way. It was a playful grin, one that did not exude lust and sex, but rather, the desire to play. Eragon quirked an eyebrow at her and felt his mouth tug into a sideways smile.

"A little. Though I see you're in a playful mood." Eragon felt Raya shift so that the points of her hips were just above and to the sides of his hips. Raya's hands were still in his hair and he could feel her fingers working through the strands, almost massaging his scalp. "A very playful mood." Eragon felt his voice catch when she twisted her hips again, so that she was pressing on him in a very different place. _Well that feels interesting, _registered a part of his brain.

"So, why don't you play with me?" she asked, a smile coloring her voice, and Eragon still found it immensely hard to read her expression. He didn't quite know what he was supposed to say or do when a woman expressed that sort of comment. Did he just keep talking? Maybe, she could tell him how, specifically, they could 'play.'

"Well, I've got several games in mind," he joked a bit, extending the conversation while his brain raced for ideas. What to do, what to do? She didn't say anything, just watched him think. Eventually, when she realized that Eragon really had no idea how to react, Raya relaxed completely onto him, laughing. She had been leaning against him, but she'd managed to take most of her weight onto her own leg; now she'd just collapsed and Eragon felt her warm weight pressing him in several places.

"I need you to do something for me," she said, when she'd stopped laughing at him. "I need you to tune out Saphira. She's going to start messing around in your head, and you can't listen to her. Got it?" Eragon didn't quite know what Raya had up her sleeve, but he figured it wouldn't hurt and indulged her.

"Okay, Saphira is tuned out." He said, and watched as she looked around. She pulled him around the bend in the wall. There were significantly less dwarves and less light there. Raya pinned him up against the wall. Eragon's brain immediately reacted, sending up mental barriers and bracing himself for an attack. Raya didn't attack.

She took his hands, guiding them till they were back around her waist, with one dangling considerably too close to her behind. His other hand was at the small of her back. Raya wrapped on hand over the hinge in his jaw, grabbing his hair with her fingers. Her other hand had snaked towards his waist, pulling the shirt from his belt and digging her fingers into the skin on his hip. She yanked his head toward her, stepping onto her toes so she could meet him halfway.

Her lips were warm against his. Very different than when he'd pulled her out of the lake. There was a strange thrill in feeling her mouth sear with heat against his. Whatever thoughts had been in his mind, evaporated. Her kiss was like a punch in the gut, but he loved every second of it. The weird flopping sensation gave way to a roar inside of him, and he realized exactly why his hands were where they were. He pulled her up with one hand, and closer with the other. His system rushed into overdrive, and his blood snapped as Raya opened her mouth and nipped at his lower lip.

Her mouth wasn't patient or kind, didn't persuade or tease. She just took what she wanted, and the sensation of being swept up, carried away by her mouth, left him feeling giddy and loose limbed. Raya's fingers clenched harder on his hip, sliding higher up his shirt and Eragon felt his skin explode. His muscles went through spasm after quick spasm, until he stopped fighting them, and he felt his mind go liquid. He had no idea what part of his brain told him to move, some part of him that was wrapped deep in instinct, but his body moved. He pulled her closer then pivoted so that she was the one against the wall.

She squealed a bit into his mouth and Eragon could feel her smile through the kiss. She wrapped both arms around his neck, folding them at the elbows so she was up as close as possible. Because the kiss was feeling good on his end, and Eragon wanted more, he let one hand traverse down her side until he was about at her knee, bending a bit while his hand moved. When she paused to take a breath, he caught her up, hitching her up by the hips until she was higher than him, and looking down into him. He held her up only with his body, and felt her leg wrap around his side. Eragon's senses were roaring: his clothes were too tight, too itchy, and his skin was screaming. He wanted her to touch him again. Her fingertips had been cool on his skin. When he couldn't take the heat of it anymore, Eragon pulled away from her mouth and pressed his forehead into her neck.

She leaned against him, breathing hard, pressing her mouth to the exposed skin on his neck. Eragon inhaled slowly through his nose to try to clear his head. Her kissing him had been unexpected, and he didn't know quite what to do with himself. The thoughts trickled back into his mind. But when he inhaled again, he smelled her, and that made his senses sizzle and snap again.

Lilacs. And Jasmine. She smelled of lilacs, and jasmine, and there was something else, something warm and earthy that Eragon recognized as dragon. That warm musky dragon smell seemed to bond to the lilac and the jasmine and everything just smelled stronger and more delectable. He guessed he smelled of dragon too. Because of Saphira.

Oh, Gods! Saphira! More thoughts pushed into his brain and he felt his breathing go from labored from lust to frantic. _Oh, Saphira is going to be unhappy, _rationed a part of his mind.

_And why on earth would I be unhappy? Whatever you just did, is making me tingle in a way that is both pleasant, and non-obtrusive. _Saphira's voice flitted through his head, and exited quickly.

"You started thinking." Raya whispered huskily in his ear. "Dangerous when you're as inexperienced as you are. You shouldn't be thinking." It dripped into his mind like honey, and wiped all thoughts from his head. He looked up at her. Raya's pupils were wide, and her mouth was open. "Listen to your body. It was doing fine a minute ago." She grinned and took his mouth with hers. His body hummed with the kiss.

Eragon opened his mouth. Her tongue flicked gently at his lips. He opened just a little bit more, and he felt her tongue sneak through, gently probing the corners of his mouth: tasting, caressing, exploring. She ran the tip of her tongue gently, from the back of his throat, down the roof of his mouth and down the ribbing. Eragon shivered as she did it one more time and pulled her tongue out. He pulled back again.

"That was amazing." Eragon whispered, correcting his stance so Raya wasn't completely pinned against the wall. "How do I do that?"

She kissed the hinge of his jaw, sucking a bit, then moved down his neck. When she got to his shirt collar, she went back up, then followed his jaw to his chin, then from his chin, back to his mouth. "Wouldn't you love to know." She teased him, placing little kisses on his mouth, which frustrated him, because he liked the whole kiss. "If you want, I can show you."

"Show me." The words spilled out of Eragon's mouth before he could think about whether he wanted to learn this from Raya. He did. It was pure and simple. He liked what she did to him, and he wanted her to feel like that when he kissed her. He wanted to keep kissing her. It felt good. No wonder people liked it so much.

"Oh, you've had your fill for today. If I show you more, next thing you know, we'll be disappearing from the party, and _that_ would be very, very, rude." Raya had stopped kissing his mouth, but instead traced a line of kissed up his nose to the point between his eyes, and to the point where his nose met his brow. He tried kissing at her neck, but all he got was hair and clothes, and not nearly enough of the skin on her neck.

"Drat," he whispered. "When's my next lesson?" he asked, slowly letting her down from her perch on his hips. She stayed close, her arms still wrapped around Eragons shoulders.

"We'll see. Tomorrow maybe. Or later tonight." Raya stood up on tip-toe and kissed him one more time then disentangled herself from him. She fixed her clothes, checking his as well, and brushed his hair down. "No point giving people ideas." She picked up her glass of mead from where she'd put it and, putting her hand ever so briefly on his shoulder, she strolled of, a new and different sway to her hips, and a more luxurious and lazy roll to her stride. Eragon leaned his head into the wall.

If he closed his eyes, he could taste her again. Her skin was just a little salty, and her mouth had tasted of the mead and it had been heady and warm and delicious. _That was excellent, _he thought, stroking his lip with a finger. _What was that? I mean, it was a kiss. But what brought it on? Where did all those snaps in the blood, the sizzle in my veins come from? And how did I know to do all that I did?_

Saphira's thoughts entered his mind, grazing the edges of his consciousness. _I told you Eragon, just because you've never done it, doesn't mean your body doesn't know what it is. That was pure animal instinct. Fun, isn't it?_


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26: Star and Rose**

When the celebrations of the night were over, Raya had to climb all over Tunivor's body to make sure each child made it home alright. She had found one gently wrapped in each of his claws and another was curled up on his tail. She handed off the last elf child to his mother, kissing the sleeping child on the head, and cajoled Tunivor to take them up to the dragon hold. He flew easily, having relaxed the entire evening.

Upon entering the cave, Raya dismounted easily and watched as Tunivor curled into a sleepy ball. His spines were exposed to the world, making him look like a giant urchin. Eragon and Saphira had gone up earlier, feeling exhausted, and both woke up to look at the White pair. Raya patted Tunivor's side and disappeared into a corner to change into an overlarge tunic. Saphira fell asleep, but Eragon propped himself up on an elbow.

"They are going to be a nightmare in the morning." Raya said, looking at the two dragons. Eragon looked confused. "All that praise will have surely gone to their heads." Eragon chuckled.

"They've quickly become heroes, when once they were at war with the dwarves." Eragon said sleepily, leaning back into his pillow. Raya sat down on the edge of his bed. "I heard some interesting gossip about you while at the party tonight."

"Oh. What sort of gossip?" Raya asked, leaning back against the bed frame. Eragon didn't know how comfortable he was with Raya sitting there. His stomach flopped when he thought of her sitting on his bed. _What if she kissed him?_

"Well, there was some gossip about you and Lowven. Supposedly, you were very good friends." Eragon didn't feel like repeating all the gossip he'd heard about Raya's relationship with the dwarf. Some of it was nasty, other gossip was just crude.

"We were more than friends," Raya replied with a lazy smile. "Lowven taught me the dwarf tongue when I was starting as an apprentice. It wasn't until I was confirmed as a Rider, that he and I interacted on a more romantic level."

"So I heard." Eragon said, glad that Raya's answers were said in a very neutral tone, and oddly, did not embarrass him. He listened to her talk.

"What else did you hear?" Raya asked him.

"Something about him learning the sword from you, and you two acting as a couple for purely political reasons." Eragon repeated some of the more innocent gossip.

"Well. That's a nice way of putting it." Raya closed her eyes and leaned back, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

"What happened to him? To Lowven." Eragon asked, shuffling around so he could see her better.

"He died. Accident." Raya's voice was hollow and she did not open her eyes. "One of the men in his clan pushed him down Volturin. The winding tunnel."

"Why'd he push him?" Eragon asked, finding it weird that someone would be pushed down Volturin.

"Never quite understood why he did it. I'm sure there was some clan issue that couldn't be explained to me. It happened while I was away, when I came back, he was already dead. His family let me see his grave, but that was it." Raya opened her eyes and looked at Eragon. "I missed him for a while. But then Galbatorix came to power, and things changed. I worried far less about my heart."

"How practical. You said there was one other man. A Rider. Was he before Lowven?" Eragon asked.

"Yes." She whispered, her eyes going foggy with memory.

"Who was it? Did you love him?" Eragon sat up in bed, looking at Raya. Her answers had quickly gotten shorter.

"He was a good man. And yes, I loved him. But he changed before the Fall." Raya's voice cracked, and Eragon noticed she looked sad and upset.

"Anyone I might know?" Eragon joked, trying to lighten the mood. He knew very few of the other Riders personally. And only a handful of others by name.

"Yes. Mind you, he was a good Rider, once upon a time." Raya looked away, into the cave. "He changed a lot. He ended up joining Galbatorix, but not because he believed in what he was doing: he was hoping to help his own apprentice, a young man he had learned to love like a brother."

Eragon could feel his stomach fall. _It couldn't be. No. It's not possible. _"He became one of the Forsworn, didn't he?" Eragon could feel his stomach clench with the fear of it.

"The First, and the Last," Raya replied with a whisper. Her eyes turned to Eragon and his stomach dropped through the floor.

"Morzan." The word came out of his mouth in a hollow whisper. "You knew my father, before he killed another Rider. You knew him, while he was changing the history of the Riders." He was in shock. She had known Morzan. _Loved_ him. And now she was here, with him. He was Morzan's son.

"Yes." She could practically see the thoughts flying through his head. "You really are nothing like him. You don't act like him, you don't think like him, and you don't talk like him. You don't even look like him."

"You don't think I'm his son." Eragon said, pouncing on the thought. "How? How do you know? What makes you think so?"

"I knew Morzan." Her answer was so simple. "I knew Morzan's life and family and history. I know things about him, that Galbatorix would have killed to know. And I know you. You are not his son."

"But what if I'm just acting like my mother? How do you know?" Eragon could only stare at her.

"You were born entirely human, correct?" Raya asked, whispering. Eragon nodded, Raya leaned forward and whispered something in his ear that made Eragon's heart not only lift up, but soar entirely. Not only did it exonerate him as Morzan's son, but it might also save Murtagh.

"You're sure?" Eragon asked, practically leaping from the bed in joy. Raya nodded. "I'm relieved. Really relieved." Eragon leaned back, flumping back into the pillows. "When he was younger, before Galbatorix, was Morzan a good Rider?"

"Yes. He loved his dragon. And he loved his apprentice. He had a lot of love." Raya smiled and drew the covers over herself on her side of the bed.

"Brom was his apprentice." Eragon said, remembering quickly that Brom had learned and fought his master.

"That's right. When Brom's Saphira died, Morzan was there to pull Brom out of it. So he wouldn't die as well." Raya relaxed a bit. "Give me a pillow." Eragon tossed her one. "When Galbatorix asked for another dragon, Morzan listened to the Council's responses. He figured if Galbatorix could get another one, then maybe Brom could too."

"So when he and Galbatorix tried to take the dragonet from its Rider?" Eragon asked, leaping into the story.

"He was inquisitive. He wanted to see if it would work. To tell you the truth, I think he thought it possible." Raya looked sad. "I also don't think he wanted to kill the other Rider. They were hoping to get to the egg, while the Dragonet was hatching. But, you know the story. Morzan ended up joining forces with Galbatorix. Once he started, there was no going back."

"And then he became the bearer of Misery. The one who killed Anhuin's clan and everything." Eragon's brain was quickly putting pieces of the puzzle together. "He learned dwarf from you, didn't he? That's how he was able to write that letter for Anhuin. He learned it from you."

"That's right. Now that I see what it's done, I feel as responsible for the Tears of Anhuin as if I'd done it myself. If I hadn't taught him, you'd never have been caught in that mess. Morzan loved to learn. He thought, at the time, that the dwarf tongue could be as beautiful as the elfin."

"And Zar'roc. His sword. You said you knew that blade as well as you knew Dorev." Eragon was quickly remembering anything Raya had said about Morzan.

"It was once called 'Mor'ranr.' He laughed, because it was only a few letters different from his whole name. Morzan'r. He dropped the ending when he entered the Riders. His blade was once called 'peace.'" Raya spoke and Eragon's mind reeled.

"And me?" Eragon asked.

"I like you as much as I liked Morzan, or Lowven, but for very different reasons. You are so much more compelling." Raya said and Eragon felt part of his stomach drop away again. _If it keeps doing that, I'm not going to have a stomach tomorrow morning. _

"But you do like me? And not because I remind you of Morzan?" Eragon asked quickly. Raya laughed. She shifted and threw her pillow at him.

"You're being silly. Of course I like you. I kissed you, didn't I?" Raya chuckled at him and Eragon felt his loins twist. _Now there's an odd sensation. _

"People do odd things with mead in their system. Saphira tried to stand up on hind legs once. She had four barrels of mead at Ajihad's funeral." Eragon said, holding onto the pillow, which he had unsuccessfully tried to duck. Raya's chuckled turned into a full on laugh.

"Give me back my pillow," she said, reaching for it.

"No." Eragon teased, putting it behind his head, as far away from her as possible.

"Now who's in a playful mood?" Raya asked, sitting up under the covers. "Give me back my pillow." She commanded. When Eragon shook his head 'no' one more time, she leapt towards him, like a cat, landing a hair's breadth from him. Eragon felt confined as she pinned him down and removed her pillow forcefully from behind his head. She leaned over and brushed her nose against his. Her tongue sneaked out and licked his nose.

Eragon twisted her sideways. She fell onto her side in a fit of giggles. "Now why on earth would you lick me?" Eragon said, brushing his nose with the back of his hand. Raya kept laughing and Eragon leaned over and tickled her. She kept giggling and laughing, trying to turn away from Eragon. He stopped for a second to let her breathe. She gasped for breath, trying to catch enough air before Eragon tickled her again.

"You tasted yummy earlier," Raya said, answering his question. "Just checking to see if it wasn't a fluke." Eragon flumped down and relaxed at her side. She realized he wasn't going to keep tickling her. "You still taste yummy."

"Raya, what happens to you and me, should Saphira and Tunivor mate?" Eragon leaned on his elbow, looking at Raya. "I only partly understand how I feel about you, and I have only the foggiest idea how you feel about me. But Saphira's and Tunivor's feelings are more solid. What happens?"

"Well, the actual mating is rarely seen by the Riders, though there are some interesting accounts of what happens. Supposedly, dragons can mate both in the sky and on the ground. The in-flight one is more impressive. As for you and me. Tunivor's never mated, though he has competed for a female's attentions. Vrael said the actual mating is so highly charged that it reminded him a bit of an Agaeti Blodhren ceremony."

"I've been in one," Eragon said, reaching out a hand to clear the hair from her face. "You go blissfully mad. Three solid days of bliss and madness."

"Well, supposedly, if you can imagine all the bliss and madness, and compress it into several minutes, that's what it feels like." Raya said, stopping his hand and brushing her hair away on her own. Eragon felt the brief touch of her skin on his hand.

"Intense." He said, not really thinking about the dragons anymore. Eragon put his palm against Raya's neck. It was instinct ripping through him. After being denied the chance to touch her hair, he wanted to touch her skin.

"Ease up, Eragon. Instinct is good, but it tends to move too fast." Raya whispered, putting her hand over his. "You and I still don't know each other that well. We are pulled together by their love," Raya said, looking out on Tunivor, who was humming as he slept.

"That scares you, doesn't it? Him wanting her as a mate, that scares you." Eragon looked into her eyes and realized he'd hit the proverbial nail on the head. It did scare her, almost as much as it frightened Eragon.

"I want him to be happy. I want him to find a mate, one that will satisfy the love I cannot give him. But yes it scares me. The Rider's guard their dragons' hearts obsessively." Raya's voice was small and quiet, like saying it aloud only compounded her fear.

"I know, Saphira's mind is my sanctuary. Her love has become my one constant. I would do anything to protect her from worry or pain." Eragon whispered, understanding her fear in the way only another Rider could understand.

"Imagine feeling only her mind for a century. I remember, there were times we argued, in that sleep. But we always managed to make up somehow. He would take me into the deepest recesses of his mind and show me the ancient memories." Raya looked at her dragon, her eyes warm and happy. "Memories that the dragons only share with each other. We are so close, Tunivor and I. We share our souls, too much. I know that should his heart break, mine would too."

"You didn't learn to separate your souls?" Eragon asked, wondering. Glaedr had said that all Riders and dragons were taught it. It was absolutely necessary.

"Oh we learned. But a century of being together like we were, and it gets hard to tease them apart. We tried several times on the journey. But we can't. The final separation is too hard. It hurts too much," she brought his hand to heart, "Here." Her eyes were liquid, her tears almost spilling down her cheeks.

"Easy" he whispered, pulling her into a hug. It was awkward because they were both lying down, be he tried anyway. "Saphira likes Tunivor as much as he likes her. She isn't going to break his heart any time soon."

"And you, what do you feel?" Raya said, pulling back to look into his face. Eragon couldn't answer her in words, so he answered her in feelings, thoughts, and images. He knew that his answer was like bearing his soul to her, but he did it anyway. He let her feel his thoughts first, the let his affection for her, his more-than-friendly affection resonate through their mental link. His thrill at seeing her, at knowing she was both like him and like the elves he so admired. Both young and old, naïve and wise. Caring, but strong, beautiful but different. She was an enigma and he expressed any and all thoughts and feelings he'd harbored for her. Even the confusion. Raya's eyes went slowly wide until Eragon could see them fill with tears.

She cried quietly, the tears making her eyes red, and the evergreen color practically illuminated the room, becoming a brilliant emerald. When he stopped projecting his thoughts, she blinked, letting the tears just roll quietly from her eyes. She let down what was left of the wall around her mind and Eragon moved his thoughts closer. He didn't rifle through them, just let her show him. If she didn't feel like sharing, for there were several thoughts, several memories she simply could not share with him, he didn't push at her.

He saw parts of her childhood, how she had longed to fit in, fit in yet still be someone special. She showed him Vrael, and Eragon was surprised by the appearance of the leader of the Rider's. He was older than he'd imagined. Than the pain of a century of sleep, a century of wondering why her kin had not come for her. A century of desperate loneliness and the worry that she had indeed forgotten her, or simply wished never to see her again. He felt the painful jolting sensation of himself, brown-haired, dark-eyed, pointy-eared Eragon who looked Halfling and was a Rider to boot, the shock of him waking her up. Her intense desire to know who was he? What was he?

When her thoughts switched to her more than friendly appreciation of his looks, his skill, his strength, his courage, his heart. Her awe at his very name, _Eragon Shadeslayer. Shadeslayer!! _And the way he smiled. She enjoyed his smile, and he saw himself through her eyes. Her delight at speaking to another person, another Rider; both learning and teaching, and showing, and teasing. Her playfulness was as awkward as his own. His feelings for her were returned with equal attraction and equal fervor.

He pulled back from her mind, and she released him. Eragon smiled at her and she looked back up at him. "Feeling better," he asked her, "Less afraid?"

"Much less afraid." She replied, snuggling into his side and he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her close.

"Now what?" Eragon asked, liking very much how she felt against his side.

"We sleep. It's late and I'm tired." Raya said, very matter of factly. Eragon chuckled.

"Sounds good to me." He pulled Raya closer and readjusted the pillow beneath his head, and let sleep and her warmth envelop him. Part of his mind registered that he had just done something very taboo: shared his mind, and his memories, with another individual. One who was not his dragon. What would happen now?

"Don't worry about it so much," murmured Raya, and Eragon turned to looke at her. She pulled his mouth to hers for a brief but tingling kiss. "Turn your brain off, Eragon. You'll only hurt yourself." She whispered again, and Eragon put all thoughts of it out of his head.

When he woke the next morning, Eragon grumbled. Raya's warm sleeping form was gone, and it was irritating to wake up and not have her there. _Where's she gone to? _He stretched his mind and opened it, reaching for whoever was closest. He felt Saphira talking mind to mind with Raya.

_I see. Well, I am more than willing to help you should you need it. _Saphira said, pondering something Raya had said.

_You'd have to accept the mark of the Star Rose. It's not one that is borne easily. _Raya said, her mental voice warning Saphira of the risk she might be taking.

_I am a dragon. It would be an honor to bear it. What duties does the mark imply? And why is Tunivor not helping you? _Saphira asked, checking to see what she was getting into.

_As far as helping me today, he's too big. Secondly, he and I are one pair. There needs to be one other individual, in case disaster strikes. _Raya explained, pulling Saphira deeper into her mind, speaking to her privately. _As for what duties are aligned with the title, I will have to tell you later. Good morning, Eragon. _

"What is Saphira helping you do?" Eragon asked, rolling out of bed, a bit wobbly on his legs, especially after dancing the night before.

"Just get a few things. And helping me by keeping something secret." Raya said, patted Saphira's nose, and turned to face Eragon. "Nothing absolutely horrible."

"Why is it that everyone tells Saphira secrets, and I don't hear anything?" Eragon grumbles, hauling himself to a water pitcher where he can wash his mouth.

"Because; no one can force a dragons mind. Not even with magic." Raya said, leaning against Saphira's side.

"Where's Tunivor?" Eragon asked.

"Around. Probably acquiring admirers. Saphira, I'll speak to Wodin about marking you, and I'll meet you by the Star Sapphire later. The dwarves brought up a breakfast tray, Eragon. When you're done, take it back downstairs will you?" Raya patted Saphira one more time and disappeared.

"What was that about?" Eragon asked Saphira.

_Like she said, she needs me to help her get something. But also to keep a secret. I can't tell you much more, Eragon. Don't worry, it's nothing awful or binding. _Saphira nuzzled him with her nose.

_I still don't understand why I can't know things like this. If it's a secret about the Riders, shouldn't I know? _Eragon asked her, wishing he could be treated like an adult.

_When I find out, I'll ask Raya if it is alright that I tell you. I think its silly that you aren't being told. But, for now, what can I do? _

_You can tell me what the mark of the Star-Rose is meant to signify? _Eragon asked, grumpily. Not a good way to wake up in the morning.

_Much like the Yawe is a mark of extreme loyalty to the elves, the Star-Rose symbolizes an extreme loyalty to the original races of Alagaesia: the dwarves and the dragons. Raya represents both, I would represent the dragons. Do not fret, Eragon. I'll tell you as soon as I learn more. _Saphira nudged him again and Eragon hugged her head: he really couldn't wrap his hands around her face anymore.

"Saphira? Have you grown again?" Eragon asked, measuring her face by comparing it to himself. She stood up to her full height and Eragon measured her with his eyes. "You are bigger. That overgrown white lizard just keeps bringing you food. You're going to end up as roly-poly as a ball."

_I beg your pardon!? I will not get fat! _Saphira, turned up her nose and Eragon laughed at her. He sent her a mental image of a Blue ball with Saphira's face and wings, so fat she couldn't fly. _I resent that. _

_I'm just teasing you. I don't think it's awful that you've grown. Just be careful you aren't so big that I can't sit in the saddle, and you can't walk through the dwarves tunnels. _Eragon changed and walked out onto the ledge which overlooked Tronjheim. He rammed right into the White Dragon.

_Hello, Eragon. _Tunivor said, pausing while Eragon straightened himself out. _Good morning, Saphira. Brightscales, if I may say it, you look the picture of health this morning. _Tunivor looked over her wings and turned his head to the side. _You've grown. Good. I do believe it's time you learn a hardening spiral. You're certainly old enough, and I've seen your flame control. _

_You think so!? _Saphira turned her head to him excitedly, Eragon could only stare at his dragon. _I mean, ahem, thank you Diamondhide; it would be an honor to learn from you. I'm almost a third of your size now. _Saphira offered, taking a step closer to Tunivor.

_I never got the chance to mention it, with all those dwarves admiring you, but you shone like Aiedail yesterday. Not even your fair mother could have looked that beautiful. _Tunivor's voice rasped huskily and he realized that Eragon was still standing there, listening to them talk. _Forgive me, Rider Eragon, but it seems that in the presence of this shining star, I have forgotten you. _

_It's fine. _Eragon replied, and choosing not to feel the dragon's emotions first-hand turned to speech. "I only want to hear you praise her. Chastise her, and I shall be fully upset with you." Eragon felt that, with his relationship with Raya getting more complex, it was okay to tease the giant white dragon.

_There is nothing to chastise: Saphira is perfection. Intelligent, athletic, beautiful, and a true dragon. She is the epitome of a dragon female. _Tunivor's compliments were said with such sincerity and honesty that Eragon was surprised.

_Your words are too kind. _Eragon could feel Saphira's flush at Tunivor's words. _I am the only dragon female, you are supposed to say that. _

_You think I have not seen my share of beauties? You forget, I knew Vervada. I can say with complete honesty, that you are more fair than even she was. More beautiful than any I have ever seen. Forgive me, I speak too candidly and it unnerves your Rider. _

"No, no. I'm just flushing because I fear all this praise will turn Saphira's lovely blue head in. And yours." Eragon grumbled and readjusted his shirt and sword.

_What is not to praise? Why shouldn't the dwarves worship and admire the prince of dragons? _Saphira said, turning her vivid sapphire eyes on Tunivor. Eragon felt the flush rising in him. _Powerful, a hide even I envy, intelligence, ferocity, and the list goes on. And you are kind and gentle with those who are smaller than you. I saw how you played with those dwarf children. It is easy to see why there is such admiration for the white dragon. I admire you. _

Eragon put his head in his hands with the hypocrisy of the situation. Had he spoken like that with Arya or Raya, he'd have been smacked silly. _Saphira, _he said privately, _keep it private. No need to broadcast feelings like that. We should also go speak to Wodin: I want to leave tomorrow. _

_Sorry, Eragon. _Saphira apologized with a sheepish woops! _My apologies, Diamondhide, but I'm afraid I have some business to finish. I will see you later. Come on, Eragon. _Saphira turned and she and Eragon flew off toward Tronjheim.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27: Dragon's Eyes**

Eragon found himself in a sour mood that morning; the idea that Raya was sharing information with Saphira, but not with him, upset Eragon. He almost considered demanding Raya tell him about this Star-Rose nonsense. But, if Eragon knew Raya as well as he thought he did, she'd just give him that 'in-due-time' smile and walk away or return to whatever she was doing.

"In due time" grumbled Eragon aloud, "Can't she see that we're in the middle of a war, what if something she knows could topple Galbatorix next minute, and she was withholding it. I should be kept informed." Eragon and Saphira were going to see King Wodin; as a liaison between the dwarves, elves, and varden, ERagon had to help coordinate plans for battle.

_If you grumble like that while we talk to Wodin, you will find yourself even more excluded from the conversations of war. Pretend you know exactly what Raya has planned and that YOU will divulge the information in due time. Easier to say you mistook the timing than to say you had no clue. _Saphira had stopped walking and was looking Eragon directly in the face. He quickly realized why Saphira was telling him this: Eragon was the leader of the Riders. And he was young. He would have to fake control when he wanted to move, he would have to exert patience when he was annoyed, and would have to think outside himself, even when he knew his plan was the right one. He was too young to be leader, and yet there was none else for the job, so he had to draw on the wisdom of his dragon and good common sense, to give the impression that he was wiser, stronger, and smarter than his years.

"You're right, Saphira" Eragon exhaled with some finality, "I'm just frustrated by all this." Eragon mentally readied himself to face the dwarf King. Although Wodin was kindly toward Eragon in person, they would have to behave differently because of the offices that they held. The throne room unnerved Eragon and he didn't think he could face it: at the end of the hall of statues would be Hrothgar's statue. Could he look upon the face of the wise dwarf, who had been shot by Eragon's own kin?

Eragon turned to the dwarf who had been escorting them, "Could you give us a minute?" The dwarf looked intrigued, but nodded and disappeared down a hallway. Eragon turned to look again at Saphira. "What are we here to tell King Wodin?"

_For starters, we're here to talk battle plans. Secondly, we leave for Cithrí and the Varden tomorrow afternoon, with or without his blessings. If he's got any plans that need coordinating, any messages or people to send, he'd better get them by then. But you have to say it in a way that doesn't sound bossy and annoying. Pull it together, Eragon. _Saphira ticked off a further list of topics for discussion and Eragon took care of the presentation and wording.

They turned toward the door and pushed it open. Saphira glided easily, her claws lightly clicking along the hard floor. Eragon avoided looking at the statues, though he could feel them staring at him.

"Eragon! Brightscales! Come in, come in!" Exclaimed Wodin with enthusiasm, practically jumping out of his throne. Eragon was mildly stunned, until he realized that Wodin would be a far different king from the one Hrothgar had been. Wodin wore the title of king with far less of the formality than Hrothgar had; and he avoided the stone throne as much as possible.

"King Wodin," Eragon said with a nod of his head, "Saphira and I are most grateful for our stay here, but the Varden expects us in Cithrí, and we planned to leave tomorrow afternoon." _Best get that out of the way first. That he way, he'll make his plans faster. _

"You are a Rider, Eragon. You certainly don't need to ask my permission to leave." Wodin motioned for Eragon to walk alongside him. Eragon nodded to show he'd walk.

_Tell him we aren't asking his permission, _rumbled Saphira, _tell him that we plan to leave tomorrow, and that if he had any plans, now is the best time to go over them. _Eragon repeated Saphira's words and when Wodin looked at the blue dragon, Saphira nodded to say 'yes, I did say it.'

"I see. Well. I believe Orik has already informed you that I intend to return the dwarves so that they may aid the Varden. The best way to face Galbatorix is head on. There is no time for cowardice!" For well over 120 years old, the Dwarf was an energetic person, and was not the kind of dwarf to just sit around in boring meetings. "My men will leave when you do, and will take the tunnels under the Beor's and explode upon the fields of Cithrí two days after you arrive."

"And Nasuada?" Eragon said, trying to see how the new dwarf king would treat the Varden Queen.

"Smart girl, in my mind. Craftier than Ajihad, though that may be me. I will have a written letter ready for her, detailing my plans. I would like Orik to fly with you, so that he may deliver it to her. If that isn't too much for the dragons?" Wodin paused from his brisk walking around the throne room, and looked at Saphira.

_We will manage. _Saphira rumbled, pausing. She walked slower than the human and dwarf did, because her size allowed her to cover a lot of ground a lot faster. _I enjoy Orik's company, with his many riddles. Is he your 'ambassador?'_

"Well, he's better! I want to make him Grimstborith! My sister is Grimstcarvlorss, so she'll handle the affairs of the hall and the people here in Farthen Dur. But, I need someone to represent Clan Ingeitum out in the field. I think Orik will do a fine job, don't you think so?" Wodin seemed pleased with how he had figured things out.

_Orik is loyal to hall and home, and he is very clever. He would make a good Grimstborith. _Saphira rumbled her approval and Eragon nodded alongside.

"He's also well liked," Eragon added, "His men will be far more likely to listen to him if they like him." Wodin smiled broadly and nodded.

"I thought the same. Excellent, most excellent. You will leave tomorrow afternoon, with Orik as my principal ambassador and representative, and he will be bearing a letter to Nasuada of some of my intentions." Wodin started walking again. The short legged dwarf man had to take two steps for any one of Eragons, so Eragon loped along slowly.

"Now, Eragon. I hear you are an excellent fighter. And after last night, I believe that you should continue bearing the Helm of the Ingeitum." Wodin put on a tone of seriousness, though Eragon could tell he was still in far too good a mood to talk seriously.

"I'm glad you think so. I hope that I have not caused hall nor clan any disgrace."

"Disgrace? Gods, no. You've been an honor to have, Eragon. And unlike some of my predecessors, I think there is some merit to the dragon riders, and their continued existence." Wodin nodded, but grimaced at a statue that he passed.

"Hrothgar said he believed that the time of the Rider's had passed, that he didn't think we could ever make a comeback." Eragon said, remembering Hrothgar's words and the foreboding tone they had taken on.

"Well. I think that that was the one time Hrothgar was mistaken: Eragon, you are a special person. One need only see the way you hold yourself, the way you walk at your dragon's side, to know it. You keep fighting long after natural and even supernatural strength gives out on you. I saw your fight with Arya, and I know of your many deeds. There is much you can offer. Perhaps the Rider's will never be as large a force as they once were; but they can be great again. You, and the White Rider, are a testament to that. Yes. How go things with Sitja-ebrithil? She is an unusual one, Hjartadorev. Always was."

Eragon was intrigued by this insight into Wodin's thoughts that he almost missed the question. "She is interesting, that is sure." Eragon said, thinking what else to say. "Her skill with a sword makes me green with envy. Last week, she showed me the ultimate in sword dances. The Dance of the White Dragon, it was a stunning display of athleticism, control, grace, and skill." Eragon figured it was safe to talk about swords.

"I saw that dance once. She and her dragon did it here in Farthen Dur, during the Saturnalia. She had on a long flowing white robe, but moved and danced in her bare feet, her hair around her. I remember seeing Vrael absolutely brimming with pride. She didn't use her blue blade then, but a crystal sword which is one of the treasures of the Rider's. Truly beautiful." Wodin paused and let his mind float into memory.

"The Crystal Sword, does it still exist?" Eragon asked, hoping to get to know what other treasures of the Riders existed.

"Eh? Oeí, yes. It's in the vaults under the city. We got Saphira's armor from those vaults. Now that I think about it, Raya mentioned wanting to look into them." Wodin had wandered into thought and Eragon wondered if he should say something to get Wodin's attention. He didn't have to.

The dwarf who had escorted Eragon and Saphira into the throne hall came up again at a run. "Sir, the White Rider, she's…" the dwarf was panting. But before he could say more the doors to the throne room banged open.

"Right here." Raya said loudly, her voice carrying around the hall. Wodin motioned for Raya to come over and she strode over with long graceful strides. For the first time, the white rider traversed the halls of power without the white dragon at her side. She looked rather small without the magnificent Tunivor. Still, the lack of a dragon did not deter from the fact that she had an undeniable presence and moved with a force that few reckoned with. Eragon could feel his heart jump into his throat. When she glided to a stop a few inches from Eragon, extending her hand in Rider's greeting, Eragon swallowed his heart, but felt it hammer forcefully against his ribs.

He gripped her hand, and turned her to Wodin. She bowed to Wodin, who nodded. "I take it you got my message, your majesty?" Raya said, her voice smooth and even.

"I did, just moments before you arrived." Wodin joked, rushing away the dwarf aide who had tried to warn the King of Raya's arrival. "You know, it took me a while to remember what the order of the Star-Rose was. Though, I must tell you, that Hrothgar has already broken the seal upon the Rider's vaults." Wodin spoke in the human tongue, and Eragon noticed it. He also noticed the number of times Wodin glanced at him, as though to monitor Eragon's reaction. Eragon kept his expression blank, as though to give off the impression that he was hearing the conversation for a second time.

"I would still like to go down there. Saphira should also be marked, with your permission, being as it was because of her that the seal was broken." Raya spoke easily, gesturing at Saphira.

"Because of Saphira? Et..." Wodin looked like he was about to say 'eta' which meant 'no' but seemed to think better of it. "The armor, which was sent to the Varden, that was Tunivor's old armor wasn't it?" Raya gave him a small grin. "I see. Well, you're just being nice." Wodin chuckled, and Eragon found it hard to see the joke. "You know Hrothgar broke the seal on those vaults shortly after Vrael's fall, in the hopes that there were Eggs down there. But I see how you are playing this: you want Saphira marked anyway, especially since your hulk can no longer walk easily through our tunnels."

"You caught me," Raya said, mocking shame that she had been caught. "You know, by rights, I could claim a blood feud with the Ingeitum because Hrothgar broke his word. But I prefer to do this because I get what I want. But, forgive my forwardness, I'm still used to you as Grimstborith and not as King." Raya bowed politely.

"That's fine. I still see me as Grimstborith. If you will forgive me, Hjartadorev, but I remember you as the little girl whom my wife tittered over. You were so small then, smaller than a dwarf. I whaffle in memory. You wish Saphira to wear the mark?" Wodin puffed himself up, trying to put on an air of kingliness. "With the power I hold as King over all dwarves, I give you permission to mark the Blue Dragon, Saphira Brightscales, with the Star-Rose, which will forever mark her as a protector of the original races of Alagaesia: the dragons and the dwarves. She will represent the dragons, along with Tunivor Diamondhide, and can henceforth commit no violence against either of the two races without due cause. Do you accept this?" Wodin looked at Saphira, and she nodded. She roared her approval and extended her right foreclaw.

"I ask permission to brand Saphira," Raya said, stepping forward and looking into Wodin's face. Wodin nodded and stepped back, watching, as Raya pressed her palm into Saphira's and whispered quickly in both elf and dwarf. Eragon, for the life of him, couldn't get the words she said to stay in his mind. "Elhána," Raya whispered with finality and black lines escaped from her palm, raising scales in a scar as they passed over Saphira's palm. A rose, with a small star in the center, etched its way into Saphira's palm, looking identical to the Tattoo that Raya had on her hip. Saphira grumbled a bit as the lines scrawled over her palm but stopped when they finished.

_That tickled, _Saphira snorted, contracting and expanding her massive claw. Wodin shivered a bit, but nodded approvingly when the Rose disappeared. _It's gone? _

"As it should be," Raya said, rubbing her hands together. "You cannot see it except under the Star-Rose." Raya lifted the hem of her shirt and showed her hips: no tattoo. "But it was there while we were fixing Isidar Mithrim."

"But the Star-Rose was broken?" Eragon thought, confused. "Was it the presence of all the pieces? They represented the entire stone?" Eragon pondered aloud and he realized Raya was genuinely smiling.

"Exactly. It protects the mark wearers. We cannot be found out away from Farthen Dur, and the mark cannot be copied, except under the Star-Sapphire itself. We are not recognized as keepers of the races, like those who wear the Yawe are." Raya fiddled with the chain around her neck.

"You wear the Yawe." Eragon pointed to the necklace.

"True. And if there were a mark that denoted me as a protector of mankind, I would wear that too. My loyalties are to the races, not their leaders. Make sense?" Raya said simply. Eragon nodded.

"Do you wish to view the vaults now?" Wodin asked, already getting ready to walk toward Isidar Mithrim. The dwarf king couldn't get enough of it. He could only look at it, joy written into every line of his face.

Raya nodded and they headed off toward the repaired Star Sapphire. The dome which held the beautiful gem was no longer filled with light. Perched atop the stone, on the outside, was a great white hulk of scales, which blocked the light from passing through. When they stood beneath the Rose, Wodin tapped the floor and lifted a panel up. Eragon looked surprised: the most ancient vaults were here? In the middle of Tronjheim?

"Many know these vaults are here, but few can enter," Raya whispered into his ear as she walked toward the entrance. Saphira grumbled something about animals on four legs not going easily down stairs. Wodin followed after them carrying a lamp and lowering the panel and disappearing. Eragon exhaled and wandered outside, hoping the air would help clear his mind.

Tunivor dozed atop Isidar Mithrim, his claw and tail hanging off of one side. Carved into his palm in twisting black lines was the Star-Rose. Eragon raised his voice, "Tunivor!" He watched as a twitch passed over the dragons sides and Tunivor lifted his head. "Care to help a rider up?" Eragon figured, if Raya could speak with Saphira, he could speak with Tunivor. The dragon extended his head and neck over the edge of the dome.

_Climb in, _Said the white dragon, opening his mouth. _I will lift you this way. _

"I heard you ate an elf once," Eragon said, unsure whether he wanted to stand inside a dragon's mouth.

_You aren't an elf._ Tunvior rumbled and a twinkle passed through his eyes. Eragon took a step forward, hand outstretched to steady himself.

"Okay. I'll trust you. Mind you, Saphira will be most unpleasant with you should you eat me." Eragon stepped into the dragons mouth, carefull not to scrape at the dragons gums or tongue.

_And we wouldn't want Saphira to get unpleasant. _Tunivor gingerly closed his mouth around Eragon. For a brief second, he felt claustrophobic in the dragons warm dark maw and he could smell the sulfuric smoke from Tunivor's stomach. But rather than feeling fear and panic, the sulfur calmed him, and the dark was reassuring. Eragon felt an overwhelming sense of calm. _Have I mentioned, that there is no place safer, than a dragon's jaws? _

_Especially for a Rider. I don't know if your prey feel that way. _Eragon thought, since he felt it was weird to be talking while inside someone's mouth. It struck him as rude. _I guess, being in your mouth is a bit like being in your head; safe and secure. _Eragon waited until Tunivor opened his mouth again, and Eragon found himself atop Isidar Mithrim. "Did you really eat that elf?" Eragon asked, walking out of Tunivor's mouth.

_Tragically for him, yes. I've managed to acquire a bit of a reputation as an elf-eater. I think that, to date, I've eaten nine. _Tunivor spoke in a tone that reminded Eragon of one he would have used to describe the weather on a sunny spring day. Pleasant.

"You're serious, aren't you? No, don't answer that." Eragon sat down on the Star Sapphire at Tunivor's feet. Not since he'd woken the Rider had Eragon been this intentionally close to the White Dragon. "Raya said that it was unwise to call a dragon's bluff. More often then not, they aren't bluffing. So if you say you've eaten nine elves, well then, I believe you." Eragon looked up at the dragon.

_In my defense, they weren't very nice to Raya, and they were asking for it. But it isn't really just elves: if you consider the wraiths I managed to swallow, and the two urgals, one kull, and I do believe it was three humans, then my total of sentient beings comes up to 18. I think. I'm not quite sure how many wraiths I ate. _Tunivor settled down, first settling his wings, then his body so he didn't press any of his spines, then finally he wrapped feet and foreclaws around the rim of Isidar Mithrim. _But no dwarves. I cannot, will not, and do not, eat dwarves. _

"How did you manage to eat a full grown kull?" Eragon asked, feeling tiny in comparison to the giant dragon. "People I understand. I'm less than a swallow for you. But a kull?"

_You forget, the White dragon is rare and special amongst dragons. I was Saphira's current size at six months. By a year, I was half the size I am now. Just a bit smaller than Glaedr, if you need a dragon to measure by. _Tunivor chuckled at Eragon's open mouthed shock. His laughter shook the stone dome in which the Star-Rose was housed. Tunivor placed his head near Eragon's body so that Eragon could see his opalescent white eye. Eragon sat there and silently pondered about a man-eating dragon until he realized that Tunivor's white eye was focused on him. It was so radically different from Saphira's blue ones, which only heightened the perfect gem-like color of her scales. Saphira's had become so familiar that Tunivor's white one was alien to him.

"Tunivor," Eragon said slowly, a thought coming to him. "What color do you see in?" Eragon thought about Saphira's and his flights together and how much more blue was in Saphira's world.

_I'm sorry? What do you mean, what 'color' do I see in? _Tunivor's eye narrowed with the question.

"Well, when I share Saphira's mind and see through her eyes, she sees in a lot of blue. Blue sky is a far richer blue than lake-water blue. The grass has a predominantly blue hue to it. Do you, as the white dragon, see white before all other colors?" Eragon couldn't really explain, only hope that the dragon understood.

_To answer your question then, I'm afraid not. But this is the first I've heard of a dragon seeing in the hue of their hide color. _Tunivor responded slowly, thinking.

"Well, what colors do you see first, when you look at me or Isidar Mithrim?" Eragon asked, trying to develop a test.

_I don't. There are few things that I see in color. Raya I can see in her truest colors. Other dragon's, I see them in their truest shade. To the human eye, Saphira and Amiron are almost the same color. To me, they are two very different colored dragons. But as for you or Isidar Mithrim, there is no color. _Tunivor sat up, stretched his neck and settled back into place.

"You can see me, right?" Eragon asked quickly, waving a hand in front of the dragons eye.

_Yes, Eragon. I can see you. But you are the same 'color' as that rock there. Just in different shades. _Tunivor responded by pointing to the gray marble of Tronjheim.

"Color-blind. Your world is gray?" Eragon mused. It was rather ironic, that the dragon which could claim all the colors of the rainbow, couldn't really see them or tell the difference.

_Sounds right. I am told Isidar Mithrim is rose-red, blood-red, fire-red. So I imagine different dragons of similar colors and layer them over the stone. But, honestly, I couldn't care what color Isidar Mithrim is, for I cannot and never will, see the Star-Roses' color with my own eyes. _

"Do you depend on Raya for things like that? To tell you what color's people and objects are?" Eragon asked, leaning back onto Tunivor's tail.

_Well, no. I know what color you are, approximately, based on what shades you are. But I have gone my whole life not seeing color. So, I don't really need to know what color objects are, just what they look like. Telling me your hair is brown or Katrina's is red, doesn't help me much. For I cannot see the color. I'll know it is red, but I do not see it as red. What I do see is far more useful: your jaw is stronger than Roran's, his nose was broken once, or that Katrina has really fair skin. _

"So you see us physically and texturally, rather than color-wise?" Eragon thought about it.

_Yes, except for Raya and other dragons. But basically, yes. _Tunivor's voice gave off the tone that this was something he had jus figured out.

"That's how you saw Amiron's egg, isn't it? The water was gray, the egg was blue, to you." Eragon thought about how difficult it had been to see the egg in cold dark water.

_Yes. That's correct. _Tunivor smiled at him, his eyes slanting warmly, _I saw it as a flash of blue. I think that's what caught my attention: the fact that I was seeing a color. _

"Do any other dragon's have unusual vision? Color-blindness or perhaps, over-color?" Eragon said, looking into the dragons eye.

_Now that you mention it: yes. Black dragons cannot see the colors of other dragons. I spoke with one once, not Shruikan or Hurudel. Blacks were more common a gift to the Riders than the whites. But still, this dragon, who was also male, said that he envied me for I could see the colors of my Rider, and appreciate the colors of the females. Most of the rare colors, such as Gold, Silver, White, and Black, only come as males. My mother was a weird one, she was white. But otherwise, the Rare Hides, were only ever male. But the black that I spoke with, he could enjoy none of the colors I did. Though, now I wonder, if his entire world was in gray? Or simply the inverse of mine? _

_Ah, summer at the Dragons Mountains, is a sight to behold. They are like a rainbow on the ground, and like the most beautiful of birds in the sky. Saphira, would have outshone them all. Her scales would have made the sky shrivel with envy, and the waters cloud for shame. None other before her has ever had such perfectly gem-like scales. _Tunivor let himself relax into memory and Eragon felt uncomfortable because he couldn't guess at the dragons thoughts, but he let his worries drift from him.

"I didn't know: about the color blindness. I imagine a world such as you see it is interesting in ways that mine is not." Eragon spoke more for himself, trying to imagine a world without color.

_Indeed? Seeing in color is normal for the sentient of races. Animals do not usually see in color. It was one of the arguments of dragons, to be claimed sentient, though we appear animal-like. My world may be black and white, most of the time. But I do see color. _

"Which means you aren't an animal." Eragon said with finality. "You're sentient as I am. That means you cannot rely solely on instinct and natural cunning."

_Now you know. _Tunivor said, smiling at him, and his eyelids drooped a bit. _I am told that Saphira now wears the dragon armor from the dwarf tunnels? _

"Yes! Wodin said that was your old armor." Eragon sat up a bit, hoping to learn something from the ancient white dragon.

_It is. Though it has not fit me in many years. And since I have been flaming, I have little need for metal armors. She is more than welcome to it. _Tunivor flicked a claw, watching the light play on his own scales.

"What else is down there? In the tunnels?" Eragon asked, stretching casually backwards.

_Well, Raya's armor is down there as well. This is no doubt the reason she wishes to go down there. But there are several other Rider treasures. The Crystal Blade, you've no doubt heard of, the belt you wear was once down there, and there should be another Rider's sword down there, in lilac, if I remember Raya's descriptions of it correctly. The dragon armor was the most useful thing there. _Tunivor peeked through his lids sleepily, and smiled at Eragon.

_You wonder if there are strange wonders, artifacts of power, tools that can be used to defeat Galbatorix? I will answer you now: no. Most of the artifacts down there need a spell caster of great power to activate them, spellcasters which you and Raya are not. Before the fall, Vrael took down several items that he felt would be useful to Raya such as scrolls, teaching manuals, and several of her own belongings. _

"So nothing immense? So what's the big secret?" Eragon leaned back, relaxing. He could trust Tunivor's word. The dragon had no reason to lie.

_Because, the dwarf caves are also down there, filled with the most beautiful works and treasures known to either man, dwarf, or elf. Here, now. Fret not. You will have more than your share of time to explore the tunnels of the dwarves. _Tunivor patted Eragon with the tip of his tail, and Eragon smiled and the gentle gesture.

"I just wish I could know what they were doing." Eragon said, looking down through the Star-Rose. "I just wish I could see for myself, just to make sure."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28: The Crystal Sword**

Saphira and Raya walked down a wide sloping passage-way for ten minutes before the light from the torch began to flicker and die.

_Why is the torch going out? I have no problems seeing, but will you?_ Saphira asked, stopping when the light died entirely.

"I'm afraid this is where I leave you. The magic binds the caves to you, Raya. Since they recognize you. You'll have to make your own light." Wodin's voice could be heard, and Saphira could see him behind her using her excellent night vision. In front of her, she noticed that Raya had pulled her sword from its sheath and was whispering to the blue sword, bidding it to light their way.

When the sword sparked to life, it cast an unearthly blue glow onto the walls of the tunnel. Saphira wasn't afraid, nor did she find the blue glow frightening, but the ghostly blue light reminded her of the were-light at the Agaeti Blodhren Ceremony, and she couldn't help but be cautious of the shining blue sword.

"It's not far, Saphira." Raya said quietly, turning to her. "If I'm right, just a few more minutes in this direction, and we should be there."

_What are we getting? _Saphira asked, starting to walk again, slowing her pace so she didn't overtake the female Rider, who was significantly shorter and slower than she was. To Saphira's mind, she was walking even slower than she would have, had Eragon been there.

"Two things," Raya spoke quietly, but because it was only the two of them in the tunnel now, Saphira heard her as though Raya were talking into her ear. "My things, and the Lilac blade. Perhaps one or two scrolls, unless you don't mind sitting there while I read?" The dragon shook her head.

_I imagine you are like Eragon: you will read quickly, skimming for the information you want. _Saphira paused as she passed a large doorway on her left side. _What's in here?_

"No clue. See that seal, it looks like a large hammer and anvil? That means it belongs to the dwarves, and only the dwarf king can open it." Raya reached for the door, but it was as though a barrier stayed her hand. "See?"

_Most intriguing. I fear these tunnels will do my sense of curiosity no good. I wish to know what is behind all these doors. _Saphira nudged Raya and they continued walking, passing several doors with the hammer and anvil seal on them.

"Some of them just hold treasure. Precious metal that the dwarves use for their watered steel. I've also heard that there is a small store-house of Filatina here, though I don't think it's much. The elves never really gave that much away, and these mountains are more a source of Iron, then they are gold or silver." Raya spoke to ease her own nerves and Saphira noticed she was walking faster. "It should be here. Yes, there it is." Saphira looked ahead, and saw a much larger doorway with a dragon, claw and wings extended, carved into the door panels. There was a large crack in the dragon.

"That's from where Hrothgar broke the seal. It must be," Raya said, pointing to the crack. She laid her palm flat against the door and it swung slowly open. Saphira peeked her head inside. "I think there is a brazier, on your left." Raya said, pointing in the direction as she held up the crystal sword to look around. Saphira blew a snort of flame, which caught easily in the brazier. The room warmed with the crackling light of the fire and did not look nearly so gloomy.

_Is there another? _Saphira asked, looking around.

"That there trench, it looks like a wall shelf, but it's a brazier that goes around the room." Raya pointed to it, and Saphira blew a snort of flame, which quickly spread around the whole room, lighting it with a warm red glow.

_This room is practically empty._ Saphira commented, taking in the sight of the large expanse of floor. There were several trunks on one side, each open to reveal gems, gold, and precious metals. Two trunks were determinedly closed. There was a general weapons rack and a special weapons rack in one corner. Next to that was a standing pole with dull and tarnished armor hanging from it: chain-mail, greaves, chest plates, and a helm with dragon-like spikes going down the back. There was a shield as well. The special weapons rack, Saphira noted, had one large clear crystal sword, and one sparkling light purple blade. The final corner of the room had a desk, with a shelf behind it, filled with scrolls.

"Mind you, the bulk of this space here," Raya pointed to a section of the floor, "Was taken up by the dragon armor. There wasn't supposed to be much down here in the first place. The dragon armor is rare to find in a complete set, because it's just so much metal. And it takes up a lot of room to store." Raya walked over to the human armor in the corner, "This is mine. Though that tarnish will need to go: the White Rider does not wear dingy armor." She murmured over the metal until it began to glow, at which point she left it alone to let the spell finish its work.

_What is in those closed trunks, on the far wall? _Saphira asked, touching them with her nose. The trunks popped open. One had clothing in it. _Cloth? This must be yours. _

"That's right. The white robes are the ones for ceremonial occasions. The dark black ones are a second flying suit. And I think there's a super light layer that can go under the armor. And a dress." Raya said, strolling over to look into the trunk. "Yup, see that mass of pink? That would be the dress."

_No offense, but you don't strike me as the type of woman to wear an excessive amount of pink. _Saphira watched as Raya pulled out the heinous garment. _Yup, definitely not your color. _

"I didn't pick this dress. Wodin's wife did. I couldn't very well tell the wife of a Grimstborith that I didn't like the outfit she had made, especially for me." Raya grimaced upon looking at the dress. "If it was a little less…frilly, and maybe in blue or green, I wouldn't hate it so much. But it's pink, and makes me look like an overlarge bird." She shuddered again and dropped the dress into the trunk and took out all the other garments.

_So, why don't you magically change the dress? _Saphira asked, leaning backwards on her haunches as Raya packed up her second flying suit and the ultra-thin garments that went under her armor. _And the white garb? _

"If you want to change the dress, by all means, do so. As for the white garb, I guess I could take it. But since I won't be using it anytime soon, it stays here. Besides, I don't want Tunivor carrying any more than he needs to." Raya left the soft white cloth in the trunk.

_Could you put it on? The white robe? _Saphira asked, noticing Raya's look of longing as she packed the trunk to close it. Raya looked at Saphira and nodded.

"Would you like to see me in the dress as well?" Raya said, pulling the white robe from the trunk, slipping out of her normal clothes and slipping the white robes on.

_I could do with a laugh. Mind you, if it's really funny I met set the dratted dress on fire. _Saphira admired the woman standing before her. _Move this way, _Saphira nudged the White Rider with her head, shifting her toward the middle of the room, _Much better. _The white robe was long, and had been taken in to fit Raya's shorter frame. _Is that shimmer silver thread? _Saphira said, tilting her head to the side.

"It is. I don't know if I should wear this very long." Raya said, running a hand down the soft white fabric.

_Could you do a move in it? Something, please. _Saphira wanted to see as much of Raya and this room as she could. She may not be able to tell Eragon what she saw, but she could _show _him. Raya grinned rather goofily, then walked over to the special weapons rack and pulled down the Crystal Sword, wincing a bit as she closed her hands over the hilt. She did a simple cut, thrust, parry and strike, twisted and brought the blade whistling down. The gown was cut and flared in several places. Saphira realized that the garb would be the same, whether the rider was male or female, and it needed to allow Raya the freedom to move. She noted the very high cuts in either side of the dress, which allowed her the utmost freedom of movement, but also bared the powerful legs of the Rider.

"I can't hold the sword very long," Raya said with a grimace, putting it immediately back in its spot on the shelf. "Now to try on the frilly pink wonder." Raya made a face, which made Saphira chuckle.

_I apologize beforehand, in case I burn it. _Saphira chuckled, as Raya struggled her way into the garment. It really was too frilly, and a most unbecoming shade of pink.

"No! Please, burn the dratted thing. I can say you sneezed and blame you for its demise!" Raya laughed, buttoning the last button on the dress. Saphira took in the sight of her and had a sudden urge to roll onto the floor laughing. She snorted, trying to keep the flame from exploding from her nose. "You are laughing at me! That's it, this dress comes off."

_Wait a moment. Look, see, I'm not laughing, Not much anyway. _Saphira nudged the dress several times with her nose. _There, I think that should do it. _The dress had lost a significant number of layers of the frill and poof and lace. It was no longer pink, either. Instead it was a brilliant shade of crimson, which flattered Raya's olive skin far better than the pink. _I couldn't make it green, but red will have to do. _

"Oh, thank the Gods! Well, now I won't be embarrassed to wear it. Still, I've no occasion for which to put the dratted thing on, so back into the trunk it goes." Raya twirled, admiring the lighter dress, then stripped it off far faster than she had put it on.

_About the crystal sword, _Saphira started, as Raya closed the trunk. _Why couldn't you hold it too long? _Saphira nudged the second trunk open. There were several replacement pieces to the armor and a small wooden box in this trunk. _And what is in this box? _

"My goodness, you're a nosy thing." Raya said, strolling over and picking up the box. She opened it to reveal a round pendant on a medium chain. The pendant was comprised of a stone that looked so remarkably like an opal, Saphira wondered if it was one, for it sparkled in her eyes that a common stone did not. On the back of the necklace was the same seal that was on the door: a dragon with its front claw and wings outstretched. "This is the seal of the Riders. That stone is the only remaining piece of Bid' Daum's egg. When the first Eragon had watched the dragonet hatch, this piece of shell was the reason he touched the baby. And because of it, he formed the first bond to a dragon. He kept it, and it was turned into the Rider's seal during his lifetime. It has been the seal ever since." Raya held out the piece, turning it over in the firelight.

_It's old. Older than Il'hen. _Saphira said, admiring the piece.

"It should go to Eragon. In fact," Raya closed the box. "Would you like to bring it to him?" Saphira looked at the White Rider.

_You mean it? _The dragon asked while Raya nodded. _Well, then I shall carry it, but you will present it to him. _

"I can hold it, but you must give it. It goes from Dragon to Rider. Technically, this belongs to you. Once Vrael passed, it goes to the strongest dragon, who then bequeaths it to his, or her, Rider. That would be you." Raya put the box with her clothing and checked on the armor.

_A question. How am I the strongest living dragon? Do not Shruikan and Tunivor, outrank me in size, as well as strength? _

"Yes. But you are the female. Males typically don't fight, except for the honor of a female. They aren't very violent, nor are they very strong. But females are. Tunivor is only strong because your presence makes him so, hence you must be the stronger one. And Shruikan doesn't count." Raya's argument made sense to Saphira's dragon sensibilities and she didn't argue the point. If she, Saphira, was the strongest dragon around, she would accept the praise without question.

_And the Crystal Sword?_ Saphira asked, pointing toward it. Raya did not look at the blade. She moved to the rack and pulled the violet sword from its spot, placing it in a lovely cream colored sheath, then wrapping it in a long length of cloth.

"The Lilac Blade is unnamed. I dare not leave it drawn. As for the Crystal Sword: it is the Blade of Truth." Raya touched a finger to the crystal and pulled it back quickly. Raya picked up the lilac sword and placed it with the belongings that were leaving with them.

_The Blade of Truth? What does it do? Tell the truth? Or burn the liar? _Saphira looked at the crystal sword. _How was it made? It is not easy to shape crystal. And why are you taking the Lilac Blade with us? _Saphira felt like Eragon; more questions than she thought she'd get answers to.

"I intend to take the Lilac Blade with us, because I believe we will soon find the Rider to match the Blade." Raya said quietly, glancing again nervously at the Crystal Sword.

_A Rider can only exist, if they have a dragon. Do we have dragon egg's lying around? _Saphira asked, hoping that Raya would tell her, where there was one more hidden egg: the egg she had gone into the caves with.

"There is one with Tunivor, right now. I intend to give her Rider the choice of the Lilac Sword or the Green Blade, Sol'rec. Though I'm rather hoping to keep Sol'rec for the Emerald Egg's Rider." Raya said, the words flying from her mouth, and again Raya looked at the Crystal Sword with some annoyance.

_Why are you telling me all this now? We have asked you these questions before? _Saphira asked, noticing the annoyed way Raya glared at the Crystal Sword.

"In the presence of the Crystal Sword, I cannot lie to you. My actions cannot lie, nor can my words. It hurt me to wield the crystal sword, for I was not using it correctly. I can only hold the blade when I am truly possessed by the spirit of the White Dragon. Showing you one move, is not the true state of mind for the dance, hence, it hurts my hand to hold it. It buzzes in an awful way, that shakes you to your bones. As for other uses of the blade, it is used in a "Rider's Trial" to deem if a person is telling the truth. They are given the blade, to hold during questioning. Should they lie, it marks them with a painful red welt, as a liar. And it cannot be used in battle. The crystal acts as a filter, making the blade itself very fragile. Should it meet a blow from Il'hen or Dorev, it would shatter." Raya looked away from the sword and went to the desk in the corner, shuffled a few papers around, and opened a drawer. "As for why I didn't tell you, it wasn't the right time."

_So it has no real purpose? _Saphira did not like the blade: it was useless in battle, and didn't understand why it had been shaped as a sword in the first place. Why not simply bless a crystal rock?

"It might. Some say, it is a way for those who do not know their true name, to find it out. You hold the sword, and when someone asks you what it is, you answer. The problem is, someone else usually hears it. Apart from that, there are only stories associated with it." Raya pulled a scroll from the drawer and opened it on the desk. Her eyes skimmed the document and she picked up a piece of writing charcoal, looked disgusted with the instrument, and looked into the drawer again. "There was a pen here somewhere. Aha! Here it is." She pulled out the pen, along with ink powder and a vial of what smelled like alcohol, mixing the two together. She wrote something on the paper scroll and looked around the room.

_What sort of myth's? _Asked Saphira, settling down on the floor, while Raya looked at the scroll, here eyes darting from side to side quickly as she read.

"That it can cut through Gods, that it came from Alaleya, and that it can command the armies of the dead." Raya spoke, not really paying attention to Saphira. "There, that's this scroll checked. Now, a blank one." Raya looked in the desk again, pulling out a blank scroll and putting the one she wrote on to the side. She stood looking at the shelf behind her and pulled out a scroll after reading the tabs which identified it.

She sat reading for several minutes and then, writing very carefully, she rewrote two sections of one of the scrolls. After that, she pulled down another large scroll, and skimmed through it. She wrote more casually from this scroll, taking notes and writing far more quickly than she had with the other one. She put the large scroll away and pulled up, from a compartment of the desk, an enormous double ended scroll. Both pegs had several feet of ancient vellum and Raya opened the thing with reverence. The bottom leg of the scroll was blank, and Saphira noticed that the handwriting varied in several places.

"I'm sorry, Saphira. But this will take some time. If you don't mind, I'd rather not be distracted." Saphira recognized this to mean, she shouldn't ask questions. Raya picked up the pen and, choosing her words very carefully, started to write where the last writer left off. Saphira watched as the Rider filled in paragraph after tedious paragraph of information. Twice Raya paused to flex her wrist, to prevent it from cramping as she wrote. Saphira looked around the cave, poking at different objects with her nose. The box of gems lit up like the Aurora Borealis, when Saphira touched it, and she amused herself for a good ten minutes by rearranging the gems and lighting them up again.

When Raya looked like she was finished, she sprinkled powder over the letters to help them set faster and leaned back with a stretch. She then rolled the scroll back upwards, going until she found a specific spot and read quickly. Then rolled the entire thing back up and put it in the desk.

_Finished?_ Saphira asked, putting the gemstones back into their trunk. _What were you reading and writing? _Saphira settled again in front of Raya.

"The first scroll that I wrote on was a catalog of the cave. There is a note there, in dwarf, saying the year Hrothgar opened the vault, the reason why, and the day he issued that the dragon armor be brought up. I rewrote that into elf. Supposedly, he opened the vault at the request of ex-Dragon-Rider Brom, who suggested searching the Vault in hopes that Vrael had left a dragon egg here. There was none. I then added the items I would be taking out of the vault." Raya stood up and took the blank scroll she had written her personal notes on, and tossed that on top of the pile of belongings that would be brought back above ground.

"That scroll has the last part of the spell to change ones true name. As well as a spell to release a being from dark magics. The second part of my notes relate to the six lessons a teacher must present a student, and several ways in which to instruct a student while 'on the fly.'" Raya went to her armor, found it was done cleaning itself and started to take it off the stand. "The large scroll was a History of the Rider's. Going on what I've read in the dwarf histories, the elf libraries, and what I've learned from Eragon and Master Oromis, I've roughly filled in the last century's worth of information and events. It's a pain, but that scroll has so much information, and it must be kept updated."

_That is a pain. The two spells you rewrote, are they to help free Murtagh and Thorn? And I have one last question about the crystal blade, if you don't mind. _Saphira crouched lower, as Raya hauled up one bags worth of stuff onto her back.

"Murtagh would be freed by the true name spell. Thorn would, with some effort, be freed alongside Murtagh. But the dark magic's spell is not for them: it is for Shruikan. As to your 'one-last-question' concerning the crystal sword, what is it?" Raya tightened in the bag containing her armor. Then scampered down to pick up the bag with the clothes, sword, and scroll.

_You said the Sword is rumored to control the dead. What is the specific myth, and how does it work? _Saphira was asking the most appropriate question she possibly could.

"Well, it isn't so much a myth as it is a prophecy. One day, someone will open the Vault of Soul's, which is located God's-only-knows where, and upon opening the souls of the dead would spread across the land, causing chaos and mayhem, unless controlled by the Crystal Sword, wielded by one who is true of heart and spirit." Raya shouldered her own pack and picked up the Lilac blade, belting it to her waist, and lifting Dorev in her free hand.

_The Vault of Soul's. That is part of the Rock of Kuthian, correct? _Saphira's mind raced: this she would have to tell Eragon. Should she tell Raya that Eragon might just be the one to open the Vault of Soul's with his true name? _Perhaps we should bring the Crystal Sword with us? _

"The Rock of Kuthian? Why does that name ring a bell? As for taking the blade with us, we could, but I need a reason as to why." Raya walked over to the scroll which catalogued the contents of the cave. She picked up the pen, scraping up the last of the ink.

_Because I think it would be useful. And because I believe I know who is meant to use it. Reason enough? _Saphira said, choosing her words carefully. Raya looked at Saphira with some hesitation, and she looked at the sword.

"Reason enough for me. But it is in your care, Brightscales. I will not burden Tunivor with its weight." Raya wrote down the Crystal Sword and the reason it was being removed from the cave and then tossed the pen and ink well into the desk. She strode over to the Crystal Sword and speaking only words of truth, she pulled it from the rack and encased it in a solid black sheath, wrapping it carefully in the effort to keep it padded. She then attached the sword to the bags on Saphira's back, securing it so it wouldn't thump or break.

"Alright, let's get out of here. Wodin is probably waiting for us at the tunnel mouth, and Eragon and Tunivor are probably wondering what has happened to us."

_Yes, it's high time we get out of here._ Saphira moved toward the door, and it opened for them. Raya raised her hand, and the fires smoldered, and died. She then picked up Dorev, and motioned for Saphira to get out first. _Can you fix the door? _

"Yes," Raya whispered, closing the door behind them, and pressing her palm to the door. "Elhána" she murmured softly, and without any further spell words, the crack in the dragon fixed itself, and the door 'clicked.' Locked.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29: Back**

When Raya and Saphira came up from Under the Star-Rose, Eragon and Tunivor had already taken off for the dragon hold. Saphira, was itching to find Eragon and tell him about all the treasures that they had seen and brought up. Tunivor was stretched out on the ledge, soaking up what was left of the afternoon sunlight, before it escaped behind the roof of Farthen Dur. Saphira landed on the ledge and, avoiding Tunivor's tail, walked into the dragon hold.

Raya leapt off her back and started hauling things off, while Saphira shrugged her shoulders easing some of the tension from them. Eragon was lounging about in a pile of pillows, scrambling to his feet as Saphira and Raya landed.

"Need a hand?" Eragon asked, watching Raya lug armor.

"Nope." Raya said carefully, putting down the armor she had brought up and looking at all the other things she had brought. "This needs reorganizing" she grumbled and flumped down and started shuffling items.

"Need help?" Eragon asked, stepping forward. Raya looked up at him, and shrugged. "How much did you bring up?" Eragon looked at the armor and the two swords, scroll, and a small wooden box. "What is all that, and why did you bring up more swords?"

"Always questions with you, aren't there?" Raya smiled at him, pulling out her flying outfit, and checking the joints in it. "Just as I thought, one more long flight on this, and these joints would've snapped. Dragonriders just aren't meant to be blacksmiths." She tugged out the frame, keeping the cloth and folding it up into a neat little bundle.

"Saphira, maybe you'd like to tell me what all this is?" Eragon asked looking at his dragon. She purred, and nosed the wooden box on the floor.

_May I give this to him?_ She asked Raya. Raya shrugged. _Anything specific I'm supposed to say? _

"Nope," Raya said, tying the Lilac blade and the Emerald Sword into one bundle. "Most of the dragons mention something about the Riders being a gift from the dragons, and through their power, so we too hold power. I wasn't there when Vrael was named leader." Raya was looking through her clothes. Anything old or worn, from before her great sleep, went into a small pile on the side.

_Well, that's not very helpful. _Saphira sniffed at Raya. _I'll just tell you what is down there. _

"You can't" Raya said, not threatening, but just matter of factly.

_Why not?_

"Try," Raya said, her eyes twinkling. Eragon could feel Saphira trying to speak her thoughts to him, but they wouldn't come. "See. Only under the Star-Rose."

"Or over it," added Eragon. "Tunivor told me what was down there. It's not awful Saphira. What did you bring me?"

_How annoying. Well, since I'm the only female alive, I hold power over all the dragons, even though I may be dwarfed by their size or strength. Since this is so, it is my right to present my Rider with the Seal of the Dragonriders. _She nosed open the box. _This seal was made from the eggshell of Bid'Daum, according to legend, it was on his head, and it was the reason the first Eragon touched the baby dragon. From the Eragon, First Rider, we have come full circle, to my Eragon, first of the free-Riders. Wear it as a marker that you are the leader of the Dragonriders, and that your power and authority comes from me, most powerful of all the dragons. _Saphira nudged the box toward Eragon.

Eragon trembled as he picked up the pendant, pulling it, necklace and all, from its box. He held it in his hands, while Saphira glanced at Raya. Raya nodded with a small smile, approving of Saphira's speech. When Raya tapped her nose, Saphira nudged Eragon with her nose. The necklace lit up for a brief moment, and Eragon put it on slowly, and with great reverence: this necklace was older than his Sword.

"Thank you," he said to Saphira, and looked at Raya, "and many thanks to you, White Rider."

"I have nothing to do with that seal: the seal passes from Dragon to Rider. When one leader passes, the dragon-spirits choose the future leader by bestowing their gifts and power to a great dragon. That great dragon is Saphira, thus the seal passes to her, and through her, to you. I had little say in it." Raya was holding an ultralight piece of cloth that Eragon imagined went under her armor.

Eragon didn't know what to say, _when you have nothing to say, best to say nothing at all. _He gave Raya a nod of thanks anyway, and kissed Saphira's nose, thanking her in his mind. Saphira hummed. _Still, _he thought_, at first glance, wouldn't the Prince of Dragons, the White Dragon, be the "great one" because he's white, he's huge, and powerfully magical? _

_I asked the same thing. _Saphira said privately, _According to Raya, Tunivor isn't very ferocious. His strength and Power are only as great as they are because of me. From what I understand, Tunivor wouldn't be nearly as strong as he is now, if another male dragon were with him. But because my presence makes him strong, that insinuates that I have more "power" than he does. I tried picking up a bit more from Raya's thoughts, but I felt there was some esoteric reason which just didn't make any sense, besides, she was looking at some scrolls at the time, and a bit distracted. _Saphira nuzzled Eragon, nearly knocking him over with her large head. Eragon held on tight, so he wouldn't fall.

"Have you spoken to Roran?" Raya asked Eragon, looking at two socks, trying to determine if they matched. She dug around and pulled up a third sock, and looked confused, and continued digging in her bag for the fourth sock.

"Erm, no." Eragon felt sheepish. He hadn't seen Roran since they landed in they had fixed the Star-Rose. "I haven't seen him. He and Katrina were supposed to get a room on the level of the dragon hold, but when I looked for them, they weren't there. Only the elves. Are you worried?"

"No. I'm just saying, we should probably send a messenger to find them and let them know we intend to leave tomorrow. Would you consider leaving them here, as we flew on to Cithri?" Raya asked, finally finding the sock she was looking for and folded it up into her bag. She was nearly done packing, but still hadn't touched her armor.

"I thought of it for about a second. Then decided, Roran and I left the Varden to hunt down Katrina, it would be a bit foolish to come back without her and without Roran. So, they come with us." Eragon watched as Raya worked, neatly packing and methodically checking each item as it went into her bag. She set the final pieces together, so that it was one large tight bundle, but her armor was still out. "You planning on wearing that?" Eragon asked, pointing to it.

"Yes." Raya gave him a quick smile. "The dwarves are really good smiths, some of the best, but elf magic makes this armor super light, but only when I wear it. So, I wear it. Luckily, it's not a long flight to Cithrí, and that autumn is approaching, else I'd swelter in this suit." Raya dusted off her hands and stood up, grabbing the last sword and tying it up in Eragons bags.

"What's that?" Eragon asked.

"The Crystal Sword."

"Tunivor mentioned it. Why did you bring it up?" Eragon asked, looking at the blade, which was wrapped in a thick layer of cloth and tied in a way that it wouldn't bump against anything.

"Because Saphira thought she knew who would wield it." Raya looked over at Saphira, who nodded. "Something about the Rock of Souls sparked her interest."

"The Rock of Kuthian, the vault of souls?" Eragon said quickly, his own interest sparked. "What use has the blade in that?"

"Not quite sure. Saphira, will you tell him the myth I told you? I want to go chat with Tunivor." She walked off leaving Eragon with Saphira. He was quickly filled in on the myths surrounding the Crystal Blade.

"I don't know, Saphira. If I'm meant to use that, great. But no one seems to know where the Vault of Souls is? And if Galbatorix gets it in the meantime?"

_It'll hurt him. You aren't listening to me, Eragon. Raya tried to show me a bit of the Dance of the White Dragon, while in traditional garb, and wielding this sword. As long as her intentions weren't true and good, she couldn't hold the blade without it rattling her bones. _

"Still, Galbatorix thinks what he did was the right thing," Eragon countered her argument.

_I don't think that's how it works. Eragon, she couldn't lie around that blade, not even 'refrain from the truth.' I highly doubt that blade can be wielded by just anyone, who 'thinks they're doing the right thing.' You can only hold it when it wants you to hold it. _

"Saphira, it's a sword. Not a lizard. Where would it keep its brain? It can't 'want' or 'think.'" Eragon argued, looking at the sword with some trepidation.

_I realize that. But maybe there are 'spirits' that guard it, or watch it, just like they watch the dragons. _Saphira argued.

"Oromis and Glaedr said there is no 'after' for our souls." Eragon reminded Saphira of their lessons.

_Then how does a shade work his magics? How did Durza work his darkness? A shade calls upon the spirits of the dead to assist him in dark spells. Well, maybe there are spirits attached to this blade, and you would use it to open the Vault of Souls. 'Souls' Eragon. That alone must mean that there is an 'after.' _

"In a vault?" Eragon asked, skeptically. "I don't know, Saphira. That sword has a creepiness to it, that's all. It makes me uneasy. Especially the not being able to keep secrets bit." Eragon looked at the sword then decided it might as well stay. They couldn't really just take it back.

_Smart decision. _Saphira said, nudging him again with her nose. _Don't worry, Eragon. I've carried it, it's not that heavy. Not if you mean well. And my bones don't shake when I carry it. _

Eragon turned to look at Raya and Tunivor and found the White Rider scratching an itch near Tunivor's massive eye. Tunivor rumbled with pleasure as Raya scratched the offending spot. Eragon shook his head.

_Did anything else happen between you and Raya, since the coronation? _Saphira asked him privately, and Eragon shook his head. _Do you want it too? _Eragon nodded. _Would you like me to help?_

_How exactly would you do that? _Eragon responded, privately, not wanting to be heard by Raya or Tunivor.

_Easy. _Saphira nudged him and stalked off toward the entrance and stooping a bit so that she looked longer, and so her back arched, she walked past Tunivor. Eragon watched as the white dragons eyes narrowed with what Eragon was sure was a dragons grin.

_Something on your mind, Bright One? _Tunivor said, as Raya clambered down from her dragons face. She patted him then strolled into the cave.

_Dragons are on my mind. You promised to teach me the fire spiral, and after the other day, I am apt to learn more moves like that. _Saphira paced slinkily at the cave mouth. Tunivor watched her pace and Eragon felt his pulse go from steady to a fast gallop.

'_More moves like that?' There aren't many others, Saphira. _Tunivor lifted himself up from the ledge, adjusting himself so that he looked bigger than he actually was. _I will teach you the spiral, when we are away from these masses of dwarves. It unnerves them. But you knew the Torrid Fall on your own. What else can I teach you? _

_I know of one. _Saphira used her slinky cat-like frame to brush up against Tunivor, still pacing, her tail dragged slightly across his side and Tunivor watched it.

_Aye, I know that one too. But I cannot teach it to you. _Tunivor looked like he was fighting hard to control himself. So did Raya.

_Why not? Big dragon like you, surely you could teach little me?_ Saphira tried to slink by one more time and Tunivor's control snapped. He gave an ear-splitting roar and rammed Saphira into a wall. With a painful lurch in his gut, Eragons pulse thundered in his ears. He wasn't afraid for Saphira, the male dragon hadn't hurt her, but it appeared Saphira's delight with Tunivor's reaction echoed a hundred fold in Eragon.

_It is exactly because I am bigger than you, that I refuse to do it: That spiral will be an exquisite agony for both of us. You do not realize that I could hurt you. Right now, I am too big for you. Do not tempt me with your thoughts, Saphira, for next time I will not be so restrained. _Tunivor rumbled at Saphira and she slunk to the floor, her spines collapsing as she rolled onto her back.

_Who asked you to restrain yourself? _Saphira teased, flicking her tail and exposing her throat to the large male dragon. Eragon felt his stomach disappear entirely as his loins twisted. Tunivor shuddered, his mouth open panting for control. He touched Saphira's neck with his nose and followed the line of her neck right to the spot under jaw with one steady stroke. Saphira rubbed her cheek against one of Tunivor's jowls. Tunivor pulled back violently.

_No. I wish I could. I want to, Saphira. You've no idea, how much the idea tempts me. But it cannot be in this way. You deserve the flight, you deserve the Heights and the Falls and the Mountains. I will not be so brash as to deny you the true experience. _Tunivor shook his head and backed up. Saphira rolled over onto her stomach.

Eragon watched as the White Dragon launched himself from the cliff, his wings shaking as he flew over the city. Saphira cocked her head to the side, and smiled. She too took off from the cliff, and landed on the Star-Rose. _I need to think about that, Eragon. But in the meantime, enjoy. _Saphira closed her mind off and Eragon felt his mind return to the cave.

"She did that on purpose," Raya whispered harshly from a corner. "That's what I figured." Raya's eyes were half lidded, and she too was breathing hard. Eragon could see the flush on her skin.

"I think she did it for me."

"You? What? Why…" Raya's question trailed off as she looked at Eragon. "I see." She stalked over and put her arms around his neck. "You missed me?"

"Something like that," Eragon said, feeling very warm and uncomfortable at that moment. "It's just, I didn't know where we stand."

"Right here." Raya said with a smile, her warm breath making him dizzy with the want to catch her mouth with his.

"How can I get to stand like this more often?" Eragon asked, trying to keep his brain from wandering. He listened for her answer.

"Whenever you want. You just need to let me know you're in a mood to play." Raya snuggled in a bit closer than pulled away. Eragon felt the loss of her closeness as a shock to his system.

"Whenever I want?" Eragon asked and saw Raya nod. "Is this another lesson?"

"It is."

"What am I learning?" Eragon asked, wondering if he should just reach over and bring her back.

"I'll let you know when you learn it." Raya said, she turned away from him. Eragon wanted her to stay. He wanted her to look at him. He wanted her. Carefully, he took a step forward, and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around. She looked at him with soft eyes, no questions, just amusement and intrigue, while she watched him move. Eragon put his hands at her waist, and with a tug that was sharper than he intended it to be, pulled her against him.

A smile played at her lips. Eragons heartbeat went to thunder again and he could feel his blood rushing. He lowered his head to hers and touched his lips to her mouth. At first, she did nothing but when Eragon pressed a little harder, catching her lower lip in mouth, she responded.

When she tried to pull away again, Eragon didn't let her leave, he just pressed her in closer. He felt her laugh into their kiss. She pulled back for a breath, "You just learned how to ask for what you want. You learned how to take, not just accept what's given."

"Can I take some more." Eragon asked.

"All you want." She smiled and pressed herself into him. Eragon felt his mind go to a buzz.

_You can thank me later. _Saphira whispered distantly in his thoughts, as Eragon pulled Raya tighter.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30: Saphira's Heart**

I decided to write this chapter from Saphira's perspective. In general, Paolini's versions don't nearly describe Saphira's character enough, her personality and general state of mind are ignored, and she is used as a walking plot twist. "Hmm, I didn't know dragons could turn water into diamonds. Cool!" –that sort of thing. So this chapter, like the one about the blade, will be from Saphira's point of view. In fact, I'm thinking of doing several from Saphira's perspective. Enjoy.

Saphira had laid on the Star-Rose for hours, thinking about many things. First in her mind, was Eragon. She had worried for a while, that he would pine for Arya. Arya wasn't that bad, but she was all wrong for Eragon, and she always kept him at arms reach. If Saphira had a choice, she'd hold Eragon to her, and never let him go. But Saphira couldn't hold Eragon, he was just too small. Fate had played a cruel joke on the dragons and their Riders. Not many people found their "other-half," their "souls' mate" in one lifetime. Eragon and Saphira, like all dragons and riders, had done just that. But biology made loving him and protecting him, difficult. Still, she could protect him, love him, and lavish him with affection, and her mind was strong and a place where he could be safe.

She put Eragon away, he was getting "lessons" from Raya on human affections.

Affections. That turned her mind to the White Dragon. She had seen him, trembling, while he stood in a battle field. He had begged the dwarves to try their axes against his hide. They had been confused at first, but when one younger dwarf shot an arrow at his hide and watched it ping away without a scratch on the diamond hide, the dwarves swarmed him, and he roared his frustration. Saphira watched for a while, and realized that Tunivor was teaching the dwarves how to fight a dragon. _Always a teacher. So why won't he teach me?_ She thought.

The answer to that, was really simple. He was afraid of her. Dragon instinct made her more powerful than him, her very gender made it easier for her to control him, and it scared him. What more could he teach one such as Saphira? Still, she liked to learn, it was a trait common amongst all dragons. She wanted him to talk to her like he had on the flight to Farthen Dur. He had been a teacher then, he had hunted for her, bringing her kills, and he had doted on her. Now he was keen on avoiding her.

Saphira lowered her head on her foreclaws, much like a cat would, watching out into the city. She watched as the White dragon brushed away dwarves, axes, and the occasionally well aimed arrow. Dragons didn't sweat, but they did glisten with the heat, and she watched as the Prince of Dragons swiped at dwarves with his tail. Such a long tail it was, proudly spiked.

He hadn't looked so stunning in the darkness of the mountain Edoc'sil. He had looked old, and dare she say it, ugly. More old dragons, she had feared. What use would he be in against the power and might of Shruikan and Thorn? Well, she had been wrong, and she'd never been so glad to be wrong. He hadn't been olive green, or even dirty brown, but had turned out to be White. Like Bid'Daum, the great White dragon, more majestic than anything. And he really was majesty. White scales that glittered like diamonds, wings that were pearly white, ivory spikes. He was even graceful, and his movements were, almost dainty. Gentle and kind. Still, it interested her to see how he would look when he was fierce, terrifying, fighting for his life and his future. True, he was battling the dwarves right now, but they weren't much of a competition to him. He was teaching them, not challenging them.

Raya had given her a lot to think about as well. If everything went as planned, they would leave tomorrow, with TWO treasures of the Rider's with them. How would the humans of the Varden react to that? More importantly, how would the elves, which had certainly made it to Cithrí by now? Saphira didn't like being wary of the elves, but she was. Dragons were complex, magically. But socially, they were simple creatures. Though not all dragons. Tunivor was being confusing. _Oh, drat it. I need to get that white behemoth out of my head. _But she still looked off in his direction, when she heard the White Dragon rumble and growl.

_How on earth are we going to deal with all those people? _Saphira thought to herself. She knew how much she could carry, and she could guess at how much Tunivor would carry, but still, there'd be a lot of them. Tunivor would have Raya, Katrina, and the three elves, while Saphira would deal with Eragon, Roran, and Orik. They also had the belongings of all eight people, which included weapons, armor, clothes, and last but not least: food. The meat wasn't a problem. But bringing enough food for eight people was going to cause a problem. Saphira grumbled at the idea of balancing all that.

_Blue lizard grumpy?_ A voice echoed in her mind. She looked around and accidentally knocked the crow, Lunch, from her shoulder. _GACK! Careful, careful, careful. Falling not fun. _

_Lunch, you ridiculous bird, what on earth are you doing there? _Saphira asked the bird, holding still as it hopped onto her shoulder, and then flitted to her wing-joint.

_Lunch bored. Bored bored bored. Fire-hair busy with head-voice nest-brother. She tell Lunch go away. Looked for head-voice. Head-voice do same as fire-hair. Look for blue-lizard. Blue-lizard grumpy. _The crow shrugged and hopped around, shuffling its wings and looking at Saphira with one eye, then the other.

_I'm not grumpy. I'm thinking. _Saphira twitched her wing, and watched as the crow flew off and around her head, landing directly on her face-spikes. _I take it Roran and Katrina are also kissing in their room? _

_Kissing like mouth-feeding? _Lunch asked.

_Not really. _Saphira figured the crow was too young to understand whatever may or may not have been going on.

_Lunch want friend. Crow-friend. All around lunch have friend-friend. Blue-lizard has Big-lizard. Head-voice has Flockless-one. Fire-hair has head-voice's nest mate. _

_I get it, Lunch. Why don't you use their names? Wouldn't it be easier to call Head-voice, Eragon. _

_Lots of Eragons? _

_No. That's the thing. Eragon, and Raya, and Katrina, and Roran, are all individuals. It's easier to say 'Roran' than it is to say, "Head-voices-nest-brother." Isn't it? _Saphira let the crow flap around her head a bit more than watched as Lunch settled down on a spike, making himself comfortable.

_But how know difference? _

_By their names. Names are unique. There is only one crow named Lunch. Another crow, would have another name. Bladgen was a raven, turned white. But he is the only Blagden. _Saphira was exasperated trying to explain the names to the crow.

_But people in knocking city call you Saphira, but they mean other-Saphira? How know difference? _Lunch rubbed his head against her spike.

_That Saphira is dead. There is only me. I was hatched, after she died, so I could take the name Saphira. _She tried to explain, but didn't really know why some names were held by multiple people, and others were rare and unique.

_Blue-lizard smart. Saphira smart. _Lunch nodded, looking at her again with one eye, then switching to the other. She sat there listening to the odd bird jabber at her about the activities of Eragon and Roran, along with the hundreds of other inhabitants of Farthen Dur. When the sun went down, plunging the city into dusk, then darkness, Saphira stood up, stretching her wings.

She loved her wings. If she had to be the size she was, and went without the ability to fly, she'd probably go mad. She stretched them high, first out to the sides, to get the blood flowing, and then lifted them upward, so she could feel the stretch in her chest and shoulders. She shuffled them, much like Lunch had done, keeping them loose and to the sides. Lifting herself onto her haunches, she stretched her spine, lengthening her body upward. With a small jerk, she threw herself into the sky.

Flight! It always gave her a sense of pride to be a creature of the sky. A predator of wings and claws. She flapped her wings down, pushing hard, feeling the muscles loosen and stretch. _Keep you claws in, unless you need them to help you climb. _She repeated the lessons Glaedr had told her, not that he'd had to repeat it often. Once told, Saphira remembered it. She lifted her claws to her body, using her tail to steer, and the very tips of her wings to fine tune the direction. Stretching her neck out, she felt the roar bubble up in her throat.

Deep in her belly, she felt as though someone was poking at her insides, and she felt the heat rise up her neck. She kept her mouth shut. The hotter she was, the higher she flew. The heat rose as she did. Just like the day she had fixed the Star-Rose, she flew up higher over the city, high enough that the lamps of the city looked like a twinkle of stars. She passed an outcropping of rock, saw a ledge worth sitting on, and realized that it was just one more of the dwarves many tunnels and caves. _They have taken out the heart of this mountain. _Saphira landed on the ledge, looking over the city beneath her.

_High up. Saphira fly very high. _Lunch murmured, looking down. Saphira had forgotten about him, his weight being so miniscule.

_I'm a dragon. I like heights. I also like heat and fire. Stand back. _Saphira said with her mind, feeling the fire still tickling at her throat. She focused on the heat, pulling up her tongue and opened her mouth. She let the fire go and roared. The flame, which had tickled, now seared up her throat and over her tongue. Lunch squawked and watched as Saphira built the ball of blue fire. She kept roaring, controlling the fire ball with her tongue, so that the fire curled in on itself. _Oh! The power of it! I love being this strong!_

She kept blowing the fire ball, bigger and bigger, until it spread almost 10 feet across. With a determined snap of her jaws, she closed her mouth, cutting off the flame, and watched as the ball of fire plummeted several feet, and disappeared. She pushed herself off the ledge, letting go another arrow of fire at different parts of the high walls of Farthen Dur. Parts of the walls started to glow red, and Saphira drew spirals on the walls with the flame, when she was bored doing that. She flew into the center to admire her handiwork. _I like it. _She dove toward the lights of the city, swallowing her flame and bellowing her appreciation of her own handiwork.

An answering roar echoed on the far reaches of the City. Saphira watched as Tunivor took off, flapping into the air. _Little one, what has you so jubilant?_

_FLIGHT! FIRE! POWER! I AM A DRAGON!!_ Saphira roared back, somersaulting in the sky, stretching her wings to catch her fall. She grabbed at the wall, digging her claws into the stone, and held. She watched the White Dragon, as he stretched his wings, while she clung to the wall. He flew high as well, belching fire in small spurts at first, and then into a pale gold ball of flame. Lunch decided that flaming dragons were not good for a small bird like him.

_Lunch, will become like last nights dinner, all crispy and well done. No feathers. Lunch will watch from the city. _He cawed out, tucking his feet up, and practically falling through the sky, tumbling as he landed on a building.

_Come here, Saphira. _He said, holding the ball of yellow fire in his maw. _Pay attention. I am going to show you how to harden your scales. First, locate our water source. _Saphira threw herself from the wall at this, coming to drift around Tunivor. _Saphira, pay attention. If you don't listen carefully, you will scorch yourself, and it will be painful, and I will not let you try fire-hardening your scales for a long time. If I, for a second feel you are treating this too flippantly, I will pluck you from the sky and use you as a chewing toy. Where is the water? _

_The closest is the ponds from the waterfall on the other side. _Saphira pointed to them. Tunivor nodded. _And the fountains in the city. _

_Let's hope we don't have to use those. Watch me, pay careful attention. _She watched as he held the yellow fire in his mouth then dove, letting the flame simply flicker out of his mouth. He didn't push it out. However she did see him add to the existing flame. She noticed that he didn't start his spiral, until he had a flicker of flame touch his tail. When he spiraled, he pushed out the heat and the fire, and it swirled around him. He didn't, however, just let it swirl. He controlled the intensity when his wings were touched with the flame. He closed his mouth, and pulled up, curling back up to her.

_I saw it. I saw everything. So what must I do? _She was excited. This would be useful. With the right amount of heat, she could harden her scales to a perfect stone-like finish which would at least block arrows.

_First, I want you to control your flame. I want you to blow a cool fireball. Not at me! _He pulled back when she opened her mouth in his direction. _The wall first. _She did as he said, and he touched the wall where her fireball had connected. _Cooler. You will scorch yourself with this heat. _She tried on another spot of wall. _Cooler, still. _She tried again, this time, he nodded his approval. _Do another three at this heat level. Concentrate on cooling the fire in your stomach. _

She did all three. He nodded his approval. _Now what?_

_Now, a continuous burst of flame, at this heat. I'm going to let you aim at me. Tail end, if you don't mind. No more than a count of 15, got it? _He shifted so she had a perfect target. She focused, not wanting to set him on fire, just blow a cool flame for a count of fifteen. She relaxed her mind, focusing on her stomach, and started, first by just letting the fire trickle out, and then blowing it slowly out. _Excellent, Saphira. It's okay, blow a little harder. Excellent. _

She felt glad that he was teaching her again. And she felt proud that she was doing well. _How do I try on myself? _

_Steady. I want you to just let the fire flicker out of your mouth first. Then do a short flicker dive, and no spiraling. _She did as he said and pulled up. Her nose itched from where the fire had tickled over it. _Okay. Good. Next, mouth open, lightly blow the fire, and just fall, no spiral yet. _She tried this as well, first getting her control over the fire, then diving. It tickled over her head and part of her neck, and when she pulled up, he was grinning. _Again, blow harder, and turn slowly. _

_It tickles. _She said, rubbing her head with a claw. He grinned again. She steeled herself, felt the fire tickling in her stomach, her throat, and she controlled it: nice, steady flame, cool. She opened her mouth, let the flame trickle out, dove, and blew the flame, adding an easy twist through the spiral.

_Count! _Tunivor barked in her mind. She counted, when she reached twelve, she pulled up. Her whole body tickled.

_Good? _She asked, flying up toward him. He nodded. She felt the heat in her stomach get hotter, and spread through her limbs. Pride and pleasure at having done so well swamped over her.

_You have learned very well, Saphira. But, pay attention to me, you are not to exceed to flamings per day. Do you understand? And only with a source of water present. Also, because you have to be careful, do not increase the heat, or the length of your dive, until you have grown again. You may crack your scales, hardening them too much, too fast. Do you understand? _

_Yes, I understand. May I ask you a question? _Saphira flew around him, coming up on his left side. _When will I be able to do a long, hot dive, like yours? _

_Not for a good long while. And do not attempt it. You may dive with straight fire, but no spiraling it up around you. This fire hardening technique is good for more than hardening your scales, it will remove blood, grime, dirt, and any vegetation from your hide. _Saphira paid close attention, but she had one more question on her mind. _You have another question, don't you? Very well, what is it?_

_Can you do another one? Like the first one you did, back in the clearing under Edoc'sil? Please? You've only done short dives. _Saphira didn't beg, but she did say please, and Tunivor looked at her. She gave him a dragon smile.

_Very well, but pay close attention to how I move. _Tunivor grumbled a bit, then rose higher into the air. He needed to be as high as possible, to avoid scorching the city below. She flew up alongside him, at first. When Tunivor held his spot, the flame balling in his mouth, then dropped, etting loose a ball of flame with an almighty roar, Saphira dove alongside him. She watched, relishing in the adrenaline rush of a straight-down dive. She pulled up when he did, and landed on the nearby wall just seconds after he caught his balance in the sky.

_Can I try one more, tomorrow morning before we leave? _Saphira asked, immediately reaching out for his consciousness. She found it foggy, misted with thoughts, and she pulled slowly back. What was that thought, washing over everything? She couldn't pinpoint it, and when his mind cleared, she approached again. _Are you alright? _

_I'm fine. The dive is…intoxicating. It reminds me of…well. I'm a drawn into memory by these long dives. _Tunivor drifted down toward the city. He swerved toward the dragon hold, and shuffled on the ledge. When he was comfortable, he motioned for her to join him. _Are you hungry? You worked very hard out there? _

_You are going to turn me into a ball of lard if you keep feeding me. _Saphira joked, landing next to Tunivor. He pulled back in shock.

_I'm sorry. I didn't realize that it bothered you. I will stop. _Tunivor looked determinedly down at the city. People were staring up at them, nodding and chattering at the odd behavior of dragons.

_I didn't mean that I don't like it. It's just, you are always encouraging me to eat. Eragon joked that if I ate every time you did, the same amount you did, I'd look like a blue ball with wings. I like that you hunt for me. I think it's very sweet that you do so. But I always wish, I could hunt with you. You don't have to prove you're a stunning hunter. No one gets to be your size without at least some skill. _Saphira mentally told herself to shut-up and stop babbling.

Tunivor looked awkward for a moment, his tail twitching uncomfortably. He glanced at her, then turned his head toward her. _Only mates hunt together, Saphira. _His thoughts brushed hers, so carefully, and the 'words' were so quiet, she almost missed them.

_Tunivor. When you did the First Offering, in that field, was I supposed to say or do something to let you know that I wanted to be your mate?_ Saphira looked him in the eye, then turned to look at the city.

_Nothing specific. _He mumbled. That threw Saphira off for a moment. The Prince of Dragons did not mumble.

_I want to be your mate. _Saphira said, still looking at the city. She chanced a glance at him, and saw Tunivor puff up with pride. He tried very hard to look dignified, but it didn't work. He was puffing up like a proud rooster.

_Then I should very much like it if you hunted with me. I would be honored, to have you at my side. _Tunivor said it so formally, but Saphira could hear him grinning. _Then, when you are bigger, and the Mountains and desert are beneath us, you and I will fly high together. _

Saphira felt her heart swell and she snaked her head forward and touched her cheek to his. She hummed into his cheek, brushing her jowls to his. She held her cheek to his, so that their eyes were next to each other. She exhaled, sighing against him, and pulled back.

Tunivor had turned pink. From the end of his nose, to the edges of his wings, and to tip of his tale, Tunivor was a soft, cherry-blossom pink. Saphira tried very had to smother her laughter. _I've embarrassed you. I'm sorry. _She said it, trying very hard not to laugh.

_Yes, well. Thank you. I…well I just wasn't expecting such affection…That is, last I was around a female, she nearly skinned me…This is much better. I need to, um…oh, where in Guntera's hall is Raya?!_ He shuffled away his awkwardness, and looked into the cave behind him. The dragon hold was dark, and the only sound coming from it was the deep and steady breathing of two Riders, fast asleep. _They're sleeping? _

_We are leaving tomorrow. They should get their rest. _Saphira said, walking quietly into the cave. _Just as I thought: sound asleep. _

Tunivor walked into the cave behind her, his claws only barely clicking on the hard stone floor. He looked at his Rider over Saphira's shoulder. He chuckled as Raya turned in her sleep, clutching Eragon around the chest. _They aren't dressed. _Tunivor turned away from the pair, and with an exaggerated stretch, he lowered himself against the wall of the cave. He head close to the exit. He did that so any smoke from his belly would exit through the cave entrance, and not back into the cave.

_That is odd, but does it mean something? _Saphira shuffled her wings, relaxing them, then lowered herself down a few feet from Tunivor's side. He glanced at her, winked, then gave a dragon grin in the direction of their Riders.

_It means he's a man. _He chuckled and closed his eyes.

_Well, about time. Does it bother you? _Saphira asked him.

_Bother me? No. It bothered me, when Raya first did it. It hurt her, very slightly, and I nearly went barreling into the cave. Morzan's red could barely restrain me. I take it you didn't feel Eragon? _

_No. I didn't. _Saphira felt guilty for a moment. Should she have felt Eragon's heat and desire?

_Don't feel guilty. Morzan's red explained that he hadn't felt it either. Dragon's weren't supposed to feel their Rider's doing 'that.' I felt it, because Raya and I are too closely bonded, and because she is female. It used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore. It's why I chose the battle-field today. All those dwarves shouting, the axes and swords ringing. I couldn't hear my own thoughts. _

_Oh. I thought that was because of what I'd done earlier. _Saphira looked out the cave entrance. Tunivor chuckled again.

_I liked that. Too much. But still, doesn't change the fact that I liked it. _Tunivor opened an eye, and with a look, extended his front leg and with his claws holding her extremely gently, he pulled Saphira in closer to him, sliding her sideways, so she was right alongside him. Tunivor draped his claw through the gap in her spikes between her neck and her back. He was careful not to snag his claws in her wings. He then curled his tail around both of them. _Go to sleep, beautiful Saphira, for tomorrow is a long day. _

Saphira watched as he curled around her, his head coming around to rest alongside her. She draped her head across his neck, gently fitting between his neck-spikes. _Good night, 'prince' Tunivor. My Tunivor, my prince, my mate. _She grinned and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31: Clutch**

When Saphira heard the footsteps of a dwarf coming up the path towards the dragonhold, she rumbled to wake Tunivor, and then disentangled herself from his neck and spines. Tunivor let her go, looking at her with one eye while she stretched. Saphira was well rested, and could tell it was still early. The sun had yet to work its way into Farthen Dur, and only a few of the night watch-men roamed the city below.

Eragon tossed slightly beneath the covers of his bed. Assuming it would be inappropriate for the two Riders to be found in bed together, Saphira jabbed her nose into Eragons back and he jumped.

"Good morning to you too, Cold-nose" he grumbled at her pulling the sheets back over himself.

_I thought you might like to know, a dwarf approaches the dragonhold. It might be awkward for you to greet him nude. _Saphira grumbled at his silliness, grabbing the sheets a little and tugging.

"Alright, I'm up." Eragon said, tumbling out of bed and lunging for his clothes, which were strewn around the bed. "Do me a favor, stall the dwarf." Eragon groaned as he looked for a missing sock. Saphira turned around and sat herself in the entrance. As the dwarf got closer, Saphira recognized the footfalls, hearing how the weight landed slightly more on the left foot. She also heard the shuffle of a beard and…._what is that clicking sound?..._ she paused to listen. _A-ha! Armor. And an axe, thumping against the gear. Possibly a bow? _

_When in doubt, Brightscales, use your nose. _Tunivor said standing and stretching his back upward, like a cat. Saphira did as he suggested and sniffed. _Tobacco, mead, and that earthy smell of dwarf. _She sniffed a bit harder, exhaling harder, and scented Eragon and herself on the dwarf.

_Good morning Knurla Orik, _Saphira said, extending her head into the tunnel. It was indeed Orik.

"You knew it was me?" Orik said, raising a hand in greeting to Saphira.

_I'm a dragon. _Saphira said, _of course I knew. _She liked knowing that her superior senses could keep her ahead of the game. It was fun playing with the dwarves heads. _Where is the rest of our flight crew?_

"Well, I saw Eragon's cousin, Roran and that fine red-head of his, downstairs packing food for the trip." Orik walked up to her, putting a hand on her nose. Saphira exhaled, warm moist air exiting from her giant nostrils. "Good morning, Dragon Saphira. Where is that white behemoth who lit up her mountain last night?"

_That white behemoth would be here. Good morning, Knurla Orik._ Tunivor shifted behind Saphira, so the dwarf would see him. _It is dark, Brightscales. I believe there is a torch on the wall. _Saphira could tell that it was a request, not an observation. Controlling her flame, as low as it could go so it wouldn't make the torch explode. She aimed, forming a small fireball in her mouth. _Ready, Aim, FIRE!_ She said in her mind as she expelled the ball of flame.

"Good morning, Orik." Eragon had managed to put all his clothes on, and had walked over. His hair was still disheveled and it could use a good combing. "Ready to go?" When Saphira mentally suggested he fix his hair, Eragon simply ran his fingers through it.

_Eragon, _Saphira said privately, _don't make me comb your hair. At least make it lie flat. _Eragon poked at her mind, and strolled over to a basin of water.

"Have you seen our elf friends?" Eragon asked Orik, running his hands through his hair, and flattening it with water. Orik nodded and walked into the cave, making himself comfortable on a piece of wall.

"No offense to the dragons, I imagine they are impressively strong. But there will be quite a few of us. Will they manage the weight?" Orik's eyes very subtly searched the cave, landing on Raya, who was making her way out of the bed, her only covering her sheaf of brown hair. Saphira rolled her eyes. _Orik would have to be an idiot, not to realize what happened the night before. One naked Rider, Eragon tousle-haired, and only the one bed? Ugh. _Saphira watched as Orik's eyebrow quirked up at the sight of a naked Raya. He averted his eyes, focusing on Eragon, who was checking their bags.

"They said they can handle the weight. And because there are several meat-eaters, the dragons have offered to hunt for us, so we don't have to carry anything other than dry goods and some water." Eragon was too at ease with the situation, Saphira deduced. And she whipped her tail beneath his legs, sending him onto the floor. "OUCH! Saphira! What was that for!?"

_Eragon, I know what happened between you and Raya last night. However, being a man doesn't mean you should get complacent or cocky. Raya is standing over there naked: had you been in a similar situation yesterday, you would have been much more uncomfortable and AWARE of whom you were talking to. Orik is a good friend, but he is also a General in the Dwarf Army, and in CHARGE of his men. You are being far too casual. On top of that, Raya may be with you, but you are NOT the only one looking at her. She has already shown she has the power to turn the eyes of the dwarves. Don't. Get. Cocky. _Saphira backed up her silent tirade with a decent decibel growl. Eragon nodded, opening his mind to Saphira again, welcoming her sense and thoughts into his mind.

"I'll be good. Lets get you saddled," Eragon said, assuaging her with a mental _it's alright, Saphira. I'm just a little satisfied with myself, that's all. _"Orik, help me would you? Grab that saddle-bag." Eragon picked up the saddled and crawled up onto Saphira's neck, placing the saddle carefully in place. Orik glanced back a bit, then realized that Eragon was leading him from the cave, and outside, into a more open and much less private environment, where they would have to act as allies and not as friends.

"Ready for a bag?" Orik said, hefting the saddlebag and preparing to toss it up to Eragon. Eragon nodded and Saphira watched the bag fly up. "So, where did you disappear to last night? I was rather hoping you'd join us in the drinking halls for a bit. A farewell feast?"

"I was busy," Eragon muttered, tightening a strap on the saddle. He flattened the pack, making a space for another rider. He was hiding his grin from Orik.

"Busy, eh? Doing what, sorting socks?" Orik chuckled, and Eragon looked up at him. He tried to look serious, and Saphira could tell he was trying very hard not to be overly jubilant about the fact that he had spent the night in Raya's arms.

"It was a bit more interesting than that. But it was a…. restful evening." Eragon glanced into the cave. Saphira twitched her wings a bit, reminding Eragon to get on with it.

"Very restful, I imagine." Orik chuckled again, tossing up another saddle bag. Eragon tied that down as well. Saphira stretched out her leg, and Orik scrambled up to Saphira's neck. He had gotten used to flying on the dragon that summer, and was now much more capable of climbing onto her back without sending Saphira into a fit of giggles. "I'd warrant I know what happened in here last night," Orik whispered to Eragon, getting himself into a seat. He adjusted the leg straps and made sure his ax didn't bump Saphira's side.

"I'd ask you what it was like, but I warrant she wouldn't like a response. So I'll simply say 'fine choice' and keep my mouth shut. Fine choice. Good timing, too." Orik whispered, and shuffled Eragon's hair. Saphira grumbled.

"If it does not offend, Knurla Orik, I can hear you." Raya said, from a spot on the cave floor. Orik cringed and Eragon had to hold back a laugh. "However, I'm somewhat pleased that you approve." She hefted Tunivor's saddle as the dragon used his tail to pick up her sole saddle bag, leaving a single pile on the floor. She settled the saddle and bag and then looked over at Orik. "I should mention, though, that I am not a 'fine choice.' I am an 'Excellent' choice."

Orik laughed aloud. "That good, are you?"

"Your kith seem to think so." Raya smirked, jumping down, and strode back into the cave. Saphira could hear her putting on her armor, grunting a bit at the chest covering. Saphira looked into the cave: the piece was an intricate one which looked like a…._what is that word?_ She searched her mind for the image word combination. …_Ah-ha. Corset. Of course Eragon wouldn't use that word. He's a man. That's a woman's garment. _The Corset was reinforced with metal plates which shimmered as Raya tightened the last ties. The corset had an odd plate over Raya's chest, which went from her breasts to her collar-bones, then another smaller plate over her shoulder and a cover that ran across both shoulders, returning to its corset style about halfway down her back. It tied under her arms rather than at her back so she could do it herself. When she was fully covered, Saphira watched as the Raya slipped the bright green cloak over her shoulders, making her look like one of the knights from Eragon's stories.

Tunivor nuzzled her, and lifted her to the saddle. Once she was in place, both dragons leaped from the dragon hold, spreading their wings easily as they glided over the city. Saphira knew that, at that moment that she was carrying more weight, but that in the flight, Tunivor would be the one burdened with a large weight. Letting Saphira land first, Tunivor circled once more, landing with a gentle _thud_ near the walls of Farthen Dur. Roran, Katrina, the three elves, and Lunch the crow were waiting with more bags and yawns. It was still early.

_Roran, Katrina, we lost you some these past few days._ Saphira nudged Eragons brother with her nose. Roran nodded, tossing a saddle bag up to Eragon, who caught it deftly.

"Don't worry, we always knew where you were. The Star-Sapphire, the festivities, the last day. We just kept out of yours and Eragons' hair. Well, your scales, Eragon's hair." Roran patted her nose, and waited as Eragon and Orik got down. They would have to walk out of the mountain. Roran nudged Eragons side. "I saw you at the feast. You disappeared in a corner with a certain woman."

"Yeah, well, it's good to see you too, brother." Eragon nudged him back. Saphira rolled her eyes. _Boys. _

"Are we ready to go?" Boomed the voice of King Wodin. Eragon jumped and turned to face the king. They all nodded. The elves made their polite good-byes to King Wodin. Raya stepped forward and hugged Wodin, saying her goodbyes in dwarf. When the dwarf looked at Eragon and Orik, he clapped them on the shoulder. "You are family," he said, pulling them both into bone crunching hugs, "we do not say good-bye, but see you when you get home. Orik, Eragon, do well by us, by each other, and do well by the people you represent. Fair winds follow you." Wodin looked every inch a king, in a regal robe, an iron circlet on his head, and a command in his voice. Saphira watched as he motioned to the walls and they spread, opening the passageway that would lead them out of the mountain, without taking them under the waterfall.

Saphira let the people go before her, pulled her wings in tight, and walked in behind Eragon, Tunivor bringing up the end. The tunnel was dark, and sparsely lit, but it didn't bother her. In the absence of light, her pupils shifted, so that she absorbed as much light as possible. Combine that with her own inner fires, she emitted a soft enough glow to light the way for herself and Eragon. Tunivor, behind her, grumbled about the height of the tunnel, but managed to walk steadily enough not to get stuck. Twice, the pace was slow enough that Tunivor bumped into her from behind, his nose or cheek ramming against her hindquarters or her tail. It unnerved her the first time, a shock of static traveling up her spine, and making her shiver.

The third time Tunivor bumped her from behind, he laid his head and neck along her kidneys, rumbling into her skin and Saphira felt her eyes flutter at the sensation. She exhaled, feeling the warmth of him behind her. Ahead of her Roran was helping Katrina over some sharp rocks. Saphira hesitated, and guessing it might take her two legged companions a moment to get over the rocks, she stopped completely, letting Tunivor rest his head on her back. On a whim, she looked behind her and saw that the white dragons eyes were half closed as he rumbled, no, purred against her.

Saphira felt Raya's presence tickle the edges of her mind. Saphira let her in, privately. _Touch him back. _Raya left her mind. Saphira looked at the White Rider, and Raya winked at her, so quickly and unobtrusively that it would have looked like she'd just blinked. Saphira was stymied: she couldn't exactly turn around to touch Tunivor? How? Saphira looked at Raya again, and watched as Raya shifted her weight to one foot, then back, rocking her hips to the side.

_Bingo!_ Thought Saphira. While Orik and one of the elves traversed the rocky terrain, Saphira lifted her tail, touching the edge of Tunivor's cheek with the tip of her tail. Still using her tail, she stroked along his neck, feeling the male dragons purr deepen against her kidneys. She laid her tail on his shoulder, curling it toward his wing-joint. When Eragon and Raya moved forward, Saphira looked back at the white dragon, stroking her tail back up to his cheek. She tapped him lightly, and Tunivor lifted his head. Saphira's back was cool from the sudden lack of the male dragon's warmth. She shivered slightly and walked forward, crossing the section of rock with no trouble.

Once outside, they saw how late in the day they were actually leaving. Because of the sheer face of rock, that is the mountain of Farthen Dur, sunlight doesn't enter the city until at least 10 in the morning, and that during the summer. Being as it was fall, the sun had already begun its climb, and Saphira warranted a guess that it was approximately that time now. She knew that it didn't matter what time they left, they would be in Cithrí on time, but she had rather hoped that they would get an early start that day.

It took the elves no time to settle themselves on Tunivor's back, helping Katrina along. Eragon and his two 'brothers' mounted Saphira. With a grunt at the weight, Saphira and Tunivor pushed their weight onto their hindquarters, putting all their Riders off balance. _Hold on. Tight._ Saphira said to her Riders and, bunching her legs beneath her so that the muscles burned with tension, she jumped into the sky. She beat down with her wings, pushing hard to gain height. Once she was above the tree-line and climbing steadily higher, she tucked her legs up, and listened for Tunivor's take off. He was only seconds behind her. She was still climbing, gaining altitude, but no longer straining against gravity. She rolled her shoulders, letting her wings and the muscles in her chest do the work of lifting her through the air. Once she was high enough that the waterfall of Farthen Dur looked like a dab of blue paint on a face of gray stone, she leveled off, flying straight and catching an air current that, would hold up the long planes of her wings, so that she could soar.

Saphira looked down, remembering the few maps she had seen of Alagaesia and the Beors. It was different from her first flight this way, in the middle of the summer. On the higher peaks, the forests were a dense and thick with evergreens. But the lower the trees go to the Beartooth River, the more colorful the foliage became. Deciduous trees, which would shed their gold and red leaves come winter and become a spiderweb across the land, camouflaged the mountains beneath her. They still had mountains to traverse, but they were already flying quickly away from Farthen Dur.

_We should reach the end of the Beartooth by tonight. Will we land, or fly onward? _Saphira reached for Eragons mind, which was never too far from her own.

_We'll have to land. We don't have nearly the food supplies to make it all the way. At least four amongst us depend on meat. _Eragon looked down over her shoulder, watching the mountains zoom past beneath them. Behind them, Farthen Dur, the highest of the Beors, was still touched in clouds. _Do you really think we'll make the end of the Beartooth by tonight? _

_Why not? I've flown this way before. _Saphira said, not liking that Eragon misjudged her timing.

_Last time there were two Riders, I'll grant that you were smaller, but it took us at least two days to pass the first ridge of the Beors. _Eragon pulled on the memory.

_I think we'll make it. The increase in size, means an increase in wingspan. Longer wings, means less necessary to go a longer distance. _Saphira, showed Eragon an image of herself, layered over another image of herself, emphasizing the immense change in wingspan. _I can do it, Eragon. _

_Don't hurt yourself. We still have to fight when we arrive in Cithrí. _Eragon patted Saphira's neck, and Saphira purred into his hand. _Hey, Saphira?_

_What is it, little one? _She opened her mind to his, expecting a question.

_I love you. _Eragon squeezed her with his thoughts, hugging her to him, images of the time they had been the same size flashing through his mind.

_And I you, Eragon. No mates of the body can change that._ Saphira hummed, relishing the mental touch of her Rider. She shifted her muscles, engaging the ones in her shoulders now, and along her back, to bring the wings down harder. _Let's fly fast!_ she laughed with her mind, stretching and the speed increased. Eragon whooped on her back.

"Can she slow down, just a bit?" asked Roran, and Saphira could hear a note of queasiness in his voice.

_Don't you dare vomit! If you do, I will drop you and you will walk to Cithrí, _she chastised firmly, pressing upon his mind with hers.

"Close your eyes, Roran. Feel the wind in your face! Go, Saphira, go!" Eragon cheered, lifting himself in his seat. Roran tugged him back down. "Come on, Roran, it's fun. Just ask Orik." Saphira felt Roran relax and then all three of them were whooping like loons. Saphira chanced a glance behind her, seeing the shocked looks of the elves on Tunivor's back. Katrina however, was standing in the saddle, holding on to Tunivor's neck spikes, Lunch holding on with his claws, his wings outstretched, feeling the wind blow under them. Raya was perched on her dragons head. She was holding on with her legs, her arms and the cloak she wore, outstretched, her hair pulled from its usual ponytail, so that it flapped in the passing air. Saphira smiled, and turned her gaze forward.

They ate up the leagues that day. Beneath them, the mountains gave way to the plains of Dalgon. Ahead of them, lay Beartooth Lake, the end of the River, while behind them the sun set into the mountains, Farthen Dur too far for the eye to see. Tunivor flew up next to her, his wingtips a hairsbreadth apart from her own. Saphira looked over at the dragon, and could see the speed and weight had taken their toll on the dragon. Although dragons didn't sweat, they could over-heat, and the only way to rid themselves of the heat, was to internalize it, using it to fuel the fires in their belly. The only way to rid themselves of the heat, was flaming. However, on the autumn dry plains, fire would ruin the expanse of high grass, and ruin the livelihoods of those who depended on the plains.

Tunivor blew flame into the air, occasionally belching the fire away and to the side. Still he flew at Saphira's side. Saphira extended her mind out to the white dragon, noticing the flicker of heat under his scales. _We'll stop soon. You can rest. _

_Do not insult me, Brightscales. The day I cannot keep up with a yearling, is the day I eat my tail. _Tunivor grumbled.

_Well, keep an eye out for our supper. I'm stopping soon. _Saphira said, not wanting to insult the great dragon, even though it was obvious he was exhausted. Their eyes searched the landscape in the failing light. Ahead, taking up a large expanse of the land between the river and the lake was a heard of roe deer. Small, but easy prey. _I see deer. Fall back, I'll fly around._ Saphira's reasons for flying ahead were to give the large dragon a breather, but also to circle the herd, so as to catch them easier. Tunivor fell back, letting her arc around them. When he saw her well enough ahead, he put on a burst of speed, shocking the deer out of their early evening meal. When they turned to run, they were faced with the massive claws of Saphira.

Panic-struck, the deer fled in whatever direction they could. Tunivor landed heavily, knocking two deer down with his wings, pinning them down with his claws. His tail snapped around, grounding a whole string, and spearing down one unlucky doe. Saphira, used her tail to knock over a buck, breaking the legs out beneath the animal, and swiped at another with her claw, catching the young animal. Between the two dragons, they had felled five young, fat, and healthy deer. They let the others pass between them, fleeing onto the plains. Saphira crowed with her success, spreading her wings wide with her roar. Tunivor, however, was exhausted. He blew a torrent of fire into the sky, letting the flame arch higher and higher as his exhausted body relieved itself of heat. Saphira hauled one deer up onto her back, Orik the dwarf catching it with a length of rope and tying it down for the moment. She groaned under the weight of the fat buck, but picked up the other beast in her mouth and walked off to a clear stretch of grass, which was closer to the lake.

Tunivor shifted the deer around in front of him, holding all three that he had felled in his massive maw. The elves on his back looked slightly sick at the sight, but Saphira saw Lunch already take off, flying for himself around the walking dragons. He crowed, anticipating his own scraps and tidbits. When the dragons had both settled, Raya and Eragon leaped from their dragons necks, landing like cats. The others descended rather clumsily, somewhat bowlegged from the long flight, with Katrina taking over the setting up of the campsite. She ushered the elves to start a fire and get out some of the food they traveled with. Orik and Roran were pushed into clearing some space for all of them, and setting up some space for them all to sleep.

Raya was on the ground in front of her dragon. He had lowered his head, gently placing the deer to one side, the stretching out onto his stomach, his claws stretched in front of him. He was tired, and Raya pressed her hand to her dragon's chest. Saphira could see his muscles twitching as he spread his wings to cool himself. "Why don't you take a dip?" Raya murmured, "you'll probably poach the fish in that lake, but it's better than your muscles cramping in this air." Tunivor lifted himself and, after checking that everyone had gotten water to drink and cook with, he lowered himself into shallows of the lake, letting his wings float along the surface.

Eragon and Raya dressed the lone doe, cutting out a choice chunk for the stewpot Katrina hard started. Saphira couldn't settle down. She paced and, deciding the white dragon could do two things at once, she hauled over his two carcasses, and whatever was left of the dear Eragon and Raya had dressed. She then hauled over her own kill, and blew fire at the skin, not liking the fur because it caught in her throat. Her instinct was to make sure all those who were weaker than her, ate first. When she saw that everyone had started to eat, Eragon starting on his first bowl of travel stew, Saphira settled down.

Turning her attention to Tunivor, Saphira grumbled at him. _You aren't eating?_ The white male's eyes were closed as he enjoyed in the gentle lapping of the water at his sides. When he felt Saphira's comment, he cracked one eye open.

_I'm indulging in the moment, _he said to her mind, relaxing again. _This is a worthwhile memory, one which I intend to cherish, once this dratted war is over and Shruikan Egg-traitor is dead. _

_Memory? You wish to remember sore muscles?_ Saphira pulled her first deer over, eating her least favorite part first: the legs and head. She chewed on the side and looked over at the white dragon.

_No. I will remember that too. But, what I am putting to memory, is this very successful first hunt with a very a certain dragon-female I would one day hope to call my mate. _Tunivor inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest, and then pulled his wings in, sloshing water onto the banks of the lake. He exhaled in such a soft sigh, that Saphira was surprised at the gentle sound. Realization of what he had said, echoed through her mind, as well as the earlier conversation she had had with the white male.

When the gravity of it fully hit, she looked around at the felled deer. _We did quite well, if I should say so myself._ Saphira spoke quietly, knowing that the conversation of mates and mating had made the white dragon nervous the day before.

Tunivor opened his eyes, turning his head so that he was looking at Saphira head on. _It is dragon-lore that the first hunt between mates is indicative of the pair's first clutch. _Tunivor looked at all the deer, chuckling.

_Clutch?_ Saphira was confused. _I thought there was only one egg from each union? _Her confusion must have radiated across her psychic link with Eragon, for he asked her what was wrong. She quickly told him that she was fine and that she was in the middle of an odd discussion with the dragon prince. Eragon left her thoughts after a moment's hesitation.

_Yes, Brightscales, I said 'clutch.' _Tunivor eased one of the deer closer to him, blowing smoke against the deer and then snapping off an antler with his teeth. _Most pairs only fell one kill in their first hunt, and for most pairs, there is only one egg per union. _

_You say 'most pairs' like we are exempt from this rule? _Saphira watched as Tunivor ate his deer raw, sucking the blood from the neck vein. When Tunivor didn't provide an answer, Saphira prodded his thoughts again. He avoided answering her, by focusing on his deer. _Tunivor, are we exempt from the rule? _

_Yes and no. _He answered evasively. Saphira felt her interest pique: dragons were naturally curious, and half-answers bothered her. She poked at his thoughts. Tunivor gnawed on a bone, though he most likely could have swallowed the entire deer whole. When she poked at his mind again, Tunivor gave and exasperated sigh. _Really, Saphira, will you quit prodding me? _

_Answer me better, or I'll prod you physically. _Saphira grumbled at him, rumbling deep in her chest. Tunivor shuffled, placing his claws demurely in front of him. _How are we not like 'most pairs'? Why are we exempt from the rule? _

_I could be charming, and say it is because you are an extraordinary female. But I feel that being charming won't put you at ease. _He paused to gather his words, but when Saphira felt the barest shiver of fear rise up her spine, she picked up a pebble with her tail and launched it at the white dragon. He twitched as the pebble made contact with his skin.

_You haven't answered me. And if you don't, my unease could be dangerous to your future mating prospects. _Saphira showed him her teeth and Tunivor nodded in acquiescence.

_It isn't because of you, fierce Saphira. It's a combination of biological imperative and reproductive prowess. _Tunivor closed their minds from anyone who would interrupt them. Sensing Saphira's dislike with this answer, he continued. _In times when dragons were plentiful, the birth's of young were few, to avoid competition for game. When game was plentiful, more young were created and born. But the race of dragons has diminished to near-extinction, and yet game is plentiful. "Clutches" that is to say, multiple-eggs being laid at the same time is possible, amongst 'most pairs.' Though, that is rare. _

_However, we are not 'most pairs.' Well, at least I'm not. The white dragon is always born alone, and very rarely is the white dragon female. My mother was an isolated circumstance, as was I. The white dragons, the prince's before me, were well known, for their mates didn't lay and hatch single eggs, but whole clutches of eggs. Sometimes, up to six or eight at a time. _

_SIX OR EIGHT! _Saphira jerked from his mind in complete and utter shock. _Impossible! The laying would kill the female. _

_I said UP TO six or eight. It could be as few as two or three or as much as eight. _Tunivor reached for her mind, his words trying to be calming. He knew he had shocked and upset her. _Saphira, you realize now why I was hesitant to fully explain to you. _Saphira looked at the male and he looked genuinely concerned, and worried because he had upset her.

_I understand. _Saphira looked down at the deer in Tunivor's claws. _We caught five. Two does, two bucks, and the fifth I couldn't tell. Five. _Saphira swallowed, not liking the prospect of carrying five eggs.

_Dragon-lore says that the kill is indicative of the clutch. But it is just lore, Saphira. It isn't a direct divination into the future. All that this kill says is that any young we, that is to say you, bring to this world of ours, would be strong and healthy. But due to the circumstances surrounding us, what with prey plentiful and a lack of competition for food and habitat, and Alagaesia's need for dragons, to restore balance, I wouldn't be surprised if…our, erm… matings? unions…erm, best put that in the singular, our union, resulted in a clutch of, as this kill suggests, five young. Two male, two female, and one surprise. _Tunivor pulled from her mind at that moment, letting Saphira think, as he attended to his meal.

Saphira's mind reeled. What had she gotten herself into? A match with the dragon-prince was idyllic, almost story-like, and highly romanticized. But in practicality, she realized that the match would be as much work. True, it was chance that she had fallen for the white male, and that she might have let herself fall some, but it was chance that they would be as strong together as they were. Thoughts whizzed around in Saphira's mind. Could she do exactly that? Could she be the mother of an entire race? Could she hold the clutch of eggs, five or more, and would nature be kind enough, and fierce enough, to let her survive?

And what of the other eggs? The green egg which lay in wait, or young Amiron? Or Thorn? Oh, dwarf-gods, she thought, what about Thorn? Shruikan? And she sensed, that Raya knew where another egg rested, safely hidden and waiting for the White-Pair to reveal it. Would it be male or female? What if she didn't mate Tunivor, waited for the Emerald egg, or Amiron to grow to size? It only now occurred to her, the immense burden she had taken on, when she had learned she truly was the last, living female. It hadn't seemed so monumental at the time, but returning the race of dragons, from the brink of extinction, _by herself, _would be a task and a half._ Well, I wouldn't be completely by myself, _Saphira told herself, _I'd have Tunivor, and Eragon. But still, that's a lot of dragons to be responsible for. _

Saphira looked at Tunivor. He was looking at the water, watching as fish came up to scales. Saphira knew males were highly territorial, and would guard their young and their mates viciously, no matter how dangerous the personal risk was. Tunivor would most certainly care for her, possibly give his own life to spare or save hers. But could she take on the task? Bring a race of dragons back from the brink?

She didn't really have a choice: it was either that, or let the dragons die out. And she couldn't do that. That was selfish and cruel. Fate had giver her this chance, by putting in her path, a worthy male, a worthy mate, one who would protect her, care for her and however many young she bore. The question wasn't would she do it, she had to do it. And the question wasn't could she do it, she could. But how would she do it? And how well would she do? _Only one way to find out, _Saphira resigned her heart and mind to the task, _live, learn, and listen to your instincts. _

Tunivor still sat in the water, no doubt fully cooled off by now, but not wanting to disturb her or her thoughts. In a sort of dragon-chivalry, he would wait until she spoke, before he offered up any more thoughts or ideas. Saphira stood up, Tunivor's head immediately turning in her direction. She walked into the water, scattering fish as she sloshed toward him. Tunivor looked apprehensive, trying to read her reaction.

Careful so as not to poke at him with her spikes and spines, Saphira sat herself down between Tunivor's massive front claws. She wasn't tiny, and her chest and wings easily reached his jaw. She watched as he tightened, ready to jerk back if she attacked him, but grudgingly trusting her not to hurt him. Using her head, and her nose, she touched and stroked his cheek, his neck, his shoulders up along his spin to his wings, all the while rumbling a dragon-purr into his body. Tunivor relaxed around her, bringing his head and neck closer to Saphira.

_I said it yesterday; I want to be your mate. If that results in one egg or one hundred, I accept it all willingly, as I have accepted you, willingly. _Saphira laid her head against his left side, her throat sending a rumbling purr into his heart. She could feel Tunivor returning the gentle rumble, arranging himself in a dragon hug.

_One hundred is a bit much, don't you think?_ Tunivor chuckled into her mind. _But I will do what I must, by you and OUR young. All our young. And I am grateful, and deeply relieved by your words. We chose each other, Saphira. It will not be easy, and the tasks before us are risky at best. Much can and will happen. But we chose each other, and it will be the greatest accomplishment and proudest moment, when you and I take to skies, with the land beneath us, and the sun within our reach. _Tunivor closed his eyes, enveloping her with his body, as well as his mind.

_I choose you. _Saphira sighed, surprising herself at the gentle gesture, _I forever choose you._


	32. AN

Now that everything that was erased is uploaded. I feel I should warn you that I'm officially putting this story on hold.

I'm technically a senior in school, I have a LOT of work to do, plus I've got work-work, as well as two tamora pierce stories I'm working on, and Elhana just keeps moving down the queue.

Once school (particularly finals) are over, I may look at this (and work at this) again over the summer….but nothing before July 4 and even that is a hesitant date.

I'm sorry it took so long…..hopefully you'll get the end of the story.

Se onr sverdar sitja hvass.

Lady Wolf


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